The Seven Seeing Stones
by What Lurks In Shadows
Summary: Middle Earth has changed much since Aragorn’s death and the departure of the Elves. Few of the glorious immortals still remain but one who has is set a task that will change him in ways he never dared think…
1. In Search Of The First

**The Seven Seeing Stones**

Disclaimer:  
I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the places, characters, items, etc associated with it.

Author's Note:  
This is probably going to turn out to be a pretty dark fic so if that worries you at all don't read on. The rating will mostly be for violence and dark themes, as well as some minor adult themes.

One  
In Search Of The First

Thundering hoof beats echoed through the deep gorge as a tall black stallion galloped between its high walls. Each hoof fell in perfect rhythm with the other three and each echo fell in time after. It travelled at a hurried pace it was used to keeping, its rider urging it on ever faster as the sheer walls of the gorge continued on before them.

The stallion veered hard to the left as the gorge took a sudden sharp turn. This only slowed him for a moment and his rider was quick to insist he pick the pace back up. His rider blended into him so well it was if they were one beast and not two. A black hooded cloak hid the rider from view and fluttered somewhat behind him as the stallion raced on.

The evening was still warm, as the season permitted so, but despite this the cloak was not removed, though it was made of a heavy material and must have been hot beneath it. If it was warm beneath the cloak the rider showed no sign of it, no sweat trickled from his brow down into his eyes and his hands were not moist as they gripped the reins tightly.

He urged his steed on ever faster as he was on his way to completing a task, a very important task set to him by a very important man, or rather a man who thought he was a very important man. A sneer broke out beneath the shadow of the cloak's hood and eyes narrowed as the rider thought disdainfully of the one who had sent him on this mission. He had sent him because he was the only one he could really send……he was the only one left, or really the only one left who would help him. He helped him because his father had been his friend; his good friend and he owed his loyalty to that man's son.

The rider's head snapped sharply to the right as his ears caught the sound of a rock clattering down the sheer face of the gorge to land at its bottom near his horse's hooves. He pulled back hard on the reigns to slow the horse and it neighed loudly and reared up in response to the sudden tug from his rider. He forced the horse to circle about itself, casting suspicious eyes about them as he sat high upon it's back. His eyes flicked about, frantic for any sign of what could have cause the rock to fall, his ears surveyed the gorge for any sound that was out of place. Then he was ambushed.

Riders in dark purple and red robes came down from both sides of the gorge, their horses stepping quickly and carefully down hidden paths carved into the cliff face. More still rode up through the gorge in front of him and as he turned to look to escape back down the way he had come even more rode up behind him. Effectively he was trapped, pinned in by horsemen and rock. He would not go down without a fight though, his pride meant too much and his honour was too great, something that was not present in vast amounts in Middle Earth anymore.

He fought with skill honed over hundreds of years, first with bow and arrows, taking down as many as he could before they reached him and his steed. Then he fought with knives, two of them, each with a white bone handle and beautiful patterns carved into both the hilts and the blades themselves. They flashed in the light of the slowly disappearing sun as he fought valiantly to defend himself from his attackers. But even his skill was not enough against so many.

He took down twenty or so men before they roped him, bound him and gagged him. His horse they subdued with a sack over his proud head and several tight ropes about his thick neck. Still he struggled against them but the more he struggled the tighter the ropes became and soon he had neither the energy nor the breath to continue his struggles.

His rider tried to sooth him with a soft hand to his hide but he was struck across the head with a large club and yelled at in a language he did not understand. A sack was quickly placed over his head and he was slung up over the back of his horse. They soon began to move, he assumed with someone leading the beaten down stallion, but to where they were going he could not know. Already on his ride he was in the unfamiliar lands east of what was once Mordor and now he had been captured in his attempts to complete the task asked of him by the King.

_Find the Palantir of Annuminas and bring it to me._

That has been his task and once it had been completed he would be rewarded and given the next. He had no doubt the King wanted all seven of the Seeing Stones but why he could not tell. Aragorn would have never asked such a thing from him. Aragorn would never have wanted the Palantiri at all. He had been a good King.

* * *

Night had fallen long ago, he knew this even though the sack that was still held over his head, and yet still on they went. Finally, when the night must have been close to its end, they arrived at wherever it was these men had been taking him.

He was hoisted from his horse's back and slung over the shoulder of one of the men in the purple and red robes. He was carried far, through many dark corridors and down countless flights of long winding stairs.

The rider was finally thrown into a dank prison cell, his shoulder colliding heavily with the stone wall; another injury to add to the many already received in the fight against his captors. The sack was torn from his head but the gag and binding left in place.

Footsteps in the dark, a loud clang and the click of a lock as his cell was shut behind him, and finally a heavy bang and the door to the dungeon fell closed behind the retreating men. He was alone in the dark.

* * *

He was left in the dark cell for what he could only guess was a day and perhaps a bit more. Even his sensitive eyes could not discern any outline or shape to his prison, as there was no light to do so by. He kept his back pressed to the hard wall where he had landed and dared not more. Who knew what lay only a few steps before him in the silent dark.

Still if his captors did not fetch him from this cell soon, for whatever they had planned for him, he would have to seriously begin to think of making an escape. His nerves would not last him long, alone in such confinement. He would need to get out fast were he to keep his sanity.

A heavy bang snapped his head to the left slightly, a tiny amount of light flooded his dormant eyes and he had to blink them rapidly before he was able to look at the torch one of the men were carrying.

Five of them charged into the cell after the one with the torch had worked the lock open. They forcefully lifted him to his feet and dragged him from the cell. He fought them again but without the weapons that had been stripped from him when they had taken him hostage he had little success against the five men, especially seeing as his hands were still bound behind his back. Each would have been as strong as he and he had not eaten in at least a day.

Still he fought the whole way, even as they dragged him up the winding stairs and one cracked a heavy club over the back of his head, sending him off balance as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He lurched to the right and was steadied forcibly but one of the men, he could taste vomit at the back of his throat as he struggled to keep the contents of his stomach down.

A blindfold was pulled tight over his eyes and yet another gag stuffed into his mouth. Hands pushed against his back and he lurched forwards, stumbled and fell to the unyielding floor as deep laughter erupted about him.

He lifted his blinded head up and used his exceptional hearing to try and discern as much about his current surroundings as possible. Footsteps shuffled to both his left and right, seven pairs in total; three on the left, four on the right. None stood behind him now but as far as he could tell there was one in front of him but he was not standing, the foot shuffles did not carry enough weight for it so he must be sitting. A soft, cool breeze tickled his pale cheek; a window was open to his left and brought him some hope of an escape, though with the amount of stairs they had climbed they were most likely well above ground level.

"Remove his gag…and the blindfold!" A deep voice boomed before him.

The coarse cloth that had served as his blindfold was torn from his face and his eyes flooded with light. He squeezed them tightly shut against the assault of light and laughter broke out about him once again.

Once his eyes could stand to open he glanced quickly about him. He had been right; eight men in total were present in the room, seven standing and one seated in a large stone chair before him.

The room was not elaborately decorated but it gave off the impression that it was a throne room of sorts; the man seated in the large stone throne therefore its King. The window to his left was in fact open by its design, having not pane set in its arch. He could not tell how high up they were though as it was too far across the room. His thoughts of escape were suddenly interrupted by the deep voice of the man before him.

"What is an Elf doing in this part of Middle Earth or in Middle Earth at all?" He laughed boisterously and the captive rider cringed at the awful sound.

The King of this realm was clearly not a rich one, neither his throne room nor choice of dress suggested otherwise. Faded velvet robes of deep purple and crimson clung to a very well muscled body, one he was not sure he could overpower without the aid of weapons, not say he would not try though.

"Answer me Elf!" He lent forward in his throne to yell at the cloaked rider, his foul breath causing the Elf to hold his breath just to keep from gagging.

"My business in these parts is not yours." The melodic voice seemed out of place in such a room, surrounded by such men, almost as a lark trapped amongst a murder of crows.

"Of course your business is my business when your business bring you into my territory. Now tell me, who are you and who sent you."

"I will not betray myself, or the one who I serve I hold standards of loyalty which are perhaps not practiced in your kingdom." Blue eyes stared challengingly up at this King.

The large man stood from his throne and with a fistful of the Elf's cloak and tunic beneath it hauled him to his feet.

"You will not dare to insult me in my own palace, filthy scum!" He threw the Elf to the stone floor as his guards laughed, one kicking the rider sharply in the ribs.

The Elf groaned softly and lifted himself as best he could to his knees, his ankles and wrists still bound tightly with coarse ropes. He kept his head down though, ashamed that he was being subdued so easily.

"My name is Legolas but that is of no matter to you. All you really needed to know was that I am an Elf, one of the only left as I'm sure you're aware."

"Quite aware, which is why I desire to know what business would bring a filthy Elf into these parts."

Legolas bit his tongue against the urge to respond to the insults being thrown his way. He would stay quiet, tell them nothing more than he could get away with and delay them as much as possible so that he might be able to escape.

"Tell me who sent you!"

"No."

"Well then, we shall have to force it out of you wont we."

This King snapped his fingers and two guards rushed to either side of the Elf and lifted him once again from the floor. They then promptly began to drag him towards a small door at the far side of the room. He struggled hard against them but they held him tight, the door growing closer and the window falling ever further away.

There, by the throne. A glimmer of light reflected off a well-polished surface. A greedy smirk tugged the corners of his lips upwards. An orb, perfectly rounded and bigger than his own head, its dark surface polished so that it gleamed in the sunlight, the Palantir. It was what he had come for, what he had been sent for, and what he could now not leave without.

Then it was gone from his sight as the small door was flung open and the guards stooped to drag him inside. It was closed with a loud bang and numerous torches mounted on the rooms high walls were lit to cast light about the gloom. A huge fire roared in a deep pit at the room's centre, the smoke billowed upwards and out of the room, as it had no ceiling, simply an opening to the sky.

Shackles hung from the walls and all manner of devices that were all too obviously for torture were located about the room. Legolas eyes opened in fear as he took each in, he was not really in any mood to be tortured to protect a King he felt no loyalty to.

He was swiftly shackled to a wall, his arms held above his head by the manacles now clasped around his wrists. His ankles were still bound by the rope but at least no further restraints had been put on their movement.

The King of this realm strode into the room after the last of the guards had shut the door behind him. He nodded to his guards who waisted no time tearing the black cloak from about Legolas' shoulders and pulling aside his tunics to reveal his pale, muscled chest.

He struggled hard against his shackles as he watched one of the men pull an iron bar from the fire at the room's centre, it's pointed tip glowing red hot in the dim room. His eyes widened as the man approached him, an evil toothy smile hidden behind a badly kept moustache sent a chill through his blood.

The King held his hand up to halt the advance of the man with the searing hot metal gripped in a heavily gloved hand. Legolas' eyes flicked desperately over to the meet the King's who's expression remained neutral.

"Now Elf, tell me who sent you."

"No one sent me. I came on my own."

A nod from the King and the man stepped up to Legolas and set the searing tip of the iron bar against the taunt skin of his abdomen. His wail of pain rang out through the tall room, fading up into the sky and echoing on it's way up. Tears stung the corners of his eyes and his breath was now coming out in gasps.

After what felt to Legolas like an eternity the red hot metal was pulled sharply from his skin and placed back into the roaring fire. He glanced quickly down at the angry line across his belly, the skin blistered and blackened in places. He swallowed thickly and tore his eyes from the wound, knowing it would need to be treated to avoid infection and that it would leave a scar for life.

"Same question again Elf." The King stated, motioning for the man to retrieve the poker once again. "Who sent you?"

Legolas averted his eyes and bit down hard on his lip as he waited for the unbearable pain to hit him again. The burning tip was struck against his chest this time; landing on the left side just below the nipple and that was about the only thing he could be thankful for. A tortured cry spilt from his throat and broke the barrier he had put up by biting down on his lip. Blood trickled from his split lip now as well as the two fresh wounds to his upper body.

Again the red-hot tip was drawn away from his skin and placed back into the fire. This time the King stepped forward until his face was only inches from his.

"Who sent you!"

The pokers burning tip hit him again, this time striking the nipple on the right of his chest. The agony was far worse than the last two had been and as he cried out an answer spilled from his lips against his own reasoning.

"The King! It was Gondor's King who sent me!"

"Good" The King said as he cuffed the Elf across the face.

He strode across the room towards the fire pit where the poker was once again reclaiming some of its lost heat so it would be ready to bite into his skin again when it was called upon.

"Now, tell me why he sent you."

The poker's searing heat was placed diagonally down his abdomen and held tightly against it as Legolas hollered and twisted in vain protest. This wound was the deepest of the four so far inflicted on him and he almost fainted under the intense pain.

"Tell me why Gondor's King sent you and the pain will go away."

Legolas shook his head determinedly and gritted his teeth against the pain. But why was he doing this? Why was he defending a King he no longer held any loyalty towards, one he no longer respected or maybe never respected. Why had he not sent anyone to rescue him?

"Very well then." The King pulled the poker's blistering tip from his body and tossed the thing haphazardly into the fire pit.

He grabbed the back of Legolas' tunic and ordered that his shackles be released. The Elf fell from the wall and a guard quickly yanked his arms behind his back and held them there. His left shoulder was twisted painfully and he winced as pain raced through the joint.

He was roughly escorted towards the fire pit at the room's centre and forced to his knees in front of it. One guard held his arms tightly behind his back while the King placed a large, heavy hand in between his shoulder blades.

"I have had enough of your insolence Elf. Now tell me why he sent you!"

Legolas did not say he wouldn't, really it was on the tip of his tongue to betray Gondor's young King but his pride held his tongue.

The King waited a few moments for the Elf to answer his question before he forced the Elf's head down and into the roaring fire.

The screams of agony that erupted from the Elf's lips caused at least one of the guards to flinch but only for a moment. His screams rang on as the intense flames seared his face. He struggled in complete desperation to get away from the flames and at first succeeded in only turning his head to the right, the right side of his face escaping the flames while the left took the full force. He had clenched his eyes closed long ago but as he could feel the skin on the left side of his face blistering and melting in the intense heat. He forced his right eye open to look up at the sneering features of the King.

Rage forced Legolas to his feet in an explosion of energy, throwing both the King and the guard holding his arms to the ground. Grabbing his cloak off the ground he wrapped it tightly about the left half of his face, smothering the flames that were still clinging to his skin and hair.

He was in terrible pain but if he was ever to escape now was his opportunity. He took up the poker from the fire's centre, even its handle was hot and burnt into his skin but not nearly as badly as its fiery tip had.

His skill with a weapon was great and he was swift to act while the guards were still in shock. A swift blow to the skull of each sent them crashing to the ground. He would have loved to stay and ensure that they all died as painful a death as he could conjure up in their own torture chamber but he just needed them down long enough for him to escape.

Still clutching the iron rod he fled the room through its small door. He slammed it shut behind him and jammed the bar across the latch to delay any attempt by them to get out. He raced across the room to the ugly stone throne at its centre. There on a marble pedestal sat by far the most beautiful thing in the entire room. The perfectly shaped black orb sat in the fading sunlight like an unblinking eye, starring out at Legolas, daring him to take it. But he could not take it as it was; he had to hide it some how.

The first thought to jump into his head was to use his black cloak, which was wrapped about his head. However as he tried to pull it free he could feel his skin coming off with it and it stung worse than when it had been burning. He managed not to scream out loud in pain but quickly abandoned that idea and secured the cloak once again.

He cast his good eye desperately about the drab room in search of something he could wrap the Palantir in. His eyes fell on the drab purple drapes hanging to each side of the window. He raced over and tore one free of its anchoring with a swift tug. He then returned to the polished orb and lifted it carefully from the pedestal before draping the heavy purple cloth over it and wrapping it tightly inside.

He headed for the window and prayed desperately that they were not too far above the ground for him to jump. He carefully poked his head out of the window and glanced down at the ground. A deep sigh of relief rushed from his lungs as he saw the desert sand spread out only three stories below, not only that but the window he was leaning out of was one facing outside of the perimeter wall and looked out over a vast desert.

He leapt gracefully up onto the window ledge and without even a look over his shoulder to see if he was being followed he jumped. The three floors seemed to pass by one by one, very slowly until his feet connected with the soft sand which yielded somewhat under his weight. With grace and much practice he fell to his side and rolled down the small slope at the base of the wall. He leapt to his feet, maintaining some of the momentum from his roll and hurried across the sand.

As he bolted along the edge of the wall he quickly realised he was not going to get far without a horse and as he rounded the corner he was relieved to find something's were going right for him. Tied up with several other horses by the gates to this small castle was his black steed. He looked as though he had been beaten and Legolas only hoped the beast could forgive him.

He approached with caution and the horse reared up as he got close. It's nostrils flared as it smelt the Elf's burnt flesh and only calmed when Legolas ran a gentle hand down its thick neck. He did not have time for a saddle or riding gear of any sort and so mounted the horse bareback before urging it into a gallop across the sands with a few hushed words.

Legolas fell forward on the beast's back; exhaustion caused by his body trying desperately to heal itself of the terrible wounds it was suffering from finally catching up with him. He clutched the ball of purple cloth and the precious rock it contained tightly to his bare chest, his open tunics flapping about him in the wind as his horse sped onwards.

He tried desperately to keep his eyes open as the horse flew at a blistering pace, he could not risk dropping off to sleep or he would surely fall and be left to the mercy of his captors once again.

It would be several days and nights of speedy travelling before he reached Gondor but he knew his wounds needed to be treated quickly, especially the one his face suffered and he did not trust the Men of Gondor with such a task. Lord Celeborn, he had to find Celeborn and the last place anyone had seen the Elf was in the slowly diminishing realm of Lothlórien. It was not his closest option but it was more appealing for some reason than having to return to Gondor immediately and Celeborn was one he could trust most at that moment, one of the few Elves left in Middle Earth.

So on he rode; sweat breaking out over his face as his body began to truly respond to the horrific injury. He swallowed thickly as his head lolled to one side but he snapped it back upright and kept his right eye fixed forward, the left one was blinded by the cloak wrapped about the left side of his face and Legolas was not even sure he would be able to see from it once he removed the garment.

A solitary tear slipped from his right eye as he thought of all he had lost on this hopeless mission and there had been no help sent by the King who had asked this of him. No assistance given to him on this folly of a mission nor a rescue party sent when he was captured and yet that same King would be more than happy to take the Palantir off him upon his return.

The Elf's eye narrowed to a small slit as anger boiled his blood. He would not let Gondor's young King take it from him. It was his, he had sacrificed for it and he would keep it. A far greater plan would formulate in his mind once he was in a more stable condition but for now he could do little more than cling hopelessly to the bundle in his arms and ride on towards Lothlórien.


	2. Celeborn

**The Seven Seeing Stones**

Author's Note:  
Thank you very much to those of you who reviewed, it fills me with great joy to read your kind words. I can only hope the story continues to live up to your expectations and that you continue to enjoy reading it.

Two  
Celeborn

In the hidden depths of Lothlorien, far from where the Elves who had once dwelled there had lived, the silver blond Elf Lord sat with his back to a sturdy tree. In its high branches was the talan in which he had lived for the many years since his wife had gone over the sea. He had not been ready to leave yet and even as all the other Elves departed he was still not ready to go. Something was keeping him here and that something was a promise he had made to a friend, why he made that promise though still baffled him somewhat. Sadly he was also doing very little to ease these uncertainties by sitting alone in the forest but lately he couldn't seem to bring himself to leave.

His eyelids were just beginning to grow heavy as he contemplated an afternoon nap when the stillness of the forest was broken. Twigs and small branches were snapping loudly not too far away and as he turned towards the source his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of muffled hoof falls.

He stood slowly and brushed a few leaves that clung to his silvery robes off, watching distractedly as they fluttered to the ground. He took a few tentative steps forward, tilting his head one way and then the other to see beyond the trees clustered closely together. He was unarmed which many would have said was foolish in these times as any Elves still left in Middle Earth were always regarded with suspicion and not always treated in the most friendly of manners.

Finally through the trees he was able to pick out a tall black stallion, plodding along in absolute exhaustion, with a limp rider draped along its back and neck. The horse's mane and a black cloth, which seemed to be wound mostly over the left side of his head, obscured the rider's face. Blond hair spilt out from beneath the black and down the back of his green tunic. Mirkwood, was the first thought that the tunic's colour brought to Celeborn's mind, which meant the unexpected rider had to be an Elf and there were no Mirkwood Elves left except for Thranduil's son.

The horse finally stumbled into the clearing and stopped, leaning its great weight against a large tree. Celeborn approached it quickly and finally knew the extent of the poor beast's exhaustion when it did not rear or make any sound of protest as he drew up next to it.

"Legolas?" He asked cautiously as he placed a hand lightly on the other Elf's back.

Legolas did not stir but now that he was beside him Celeborn was sure that it was Thranduil's son and that there must be a reason for him to be in such a condition.

Carefully he lifted the Elf from the horse's back and lowered him softly to the ground. As he did the ball of purple cloth and the stone it contained fell from Legolas' arms where he had been clutching it to his chest. It rolled a few paces until it bumped up against the base of a small tree, leaving a trail of cloth behind it exposing a tiny amount of its shinny surface.

"That's interesting…" Celeborn whispered, more to himself than to the unconscious Elf in his arms.

The Palantir could be dealt with later, for the moment Celeborn was far more concerned with the horrific injuries that were now apparent on Legolas' body. He quickly plucked up the trail of purple cloth and threw it back over the stone sphere, you never knew who could be watching.

He shifted the Elf in his lap so that he was on his back and Celeborn was better able to examine Legolas' exposed chest. He cringed at the injuries marring the Prince's well-muscled torso. They were blistered and red and the deepest one that ran diagonally down his chest looked to be infected and would need to be cleaned immediately.

So before he even removed the cloaked tied about his head to see why Legolas had secured it there, Celeborn laid the Elf down on the soft moss that covered these parts of the forest and climbed quickly up to his talan to retrieve his small supply of medicines. He leapt gracefully back down to the forest floor and noted strangely that the birds that had been singing so fluently before had fallen silent.

He knelt beside Legolas' unconscious form and began cleaning out each of the burns with a pale green ointment. The muscles beneath his fingers twitched slightly and then the entire body began to shift slightly. He knew Legolas was waking up and so hurried to finish the cleaning, as it would only sting the Elf once he was conscious. A soft hiss slipped past Legolas' lips and Celeborn placed a soothing hand over the other Elf's forehead to keep him calm.

"Shhh Legolas. You are safe my friend, I'm treating your wounds and as you know the salve can sting quite a bit when the wounds are deep as yours."

Legolas' lower lips trembled slightly as he slowly nodded his head and tried to remain still. For all Celeborn had said to calm him it was not the wounds he was treating that were causing him discomfort, he in fact could no longer feel them. It was the left half of his face that was causing his lip to quiver, his muscles to tense and sweat to break out over his body.

The change in the Elf's condition did not escape Celeborn but he kept his focus on treating the wounds on Legolas' chest and belly. Once they were clean he rubbed a white cream into them to help fight off infection and then wrapped clean white bandages around the Elf's torso before he buttoned up the Elf's tunics.

Legolas struggled to bring his mind to the surface of consciousness; it was as though he were at the bottom of some great dark lake and struggling slowly against the unyielding water to its surface. He felt hands upon him but even without being able to see to whom they belonged he knew they were gentle, healing hands that would do him no harm.

Finally he managed to lift his heavy eyelid of his right eye but all he could see was a blurred image of a face framed by long slivery locks. He tried to focus the image before his eye but it took a few moments for him to realise the figure hovering over him was in fact Celeborn. He sighed in relief, knowing he would be safe in the other Elf's care and that Celeborn was a very able healer and would do his best to see him well again.

"Ok Legolas. You need to keep the wounds clean, they will heal on their own but they will scar."

Legolas whispered a small thanks as best he could through swollen lips before the turned his whole body sharply to the left, away from Celeborn, and vomited. Celeborn offered a comforting hand upon the other Elf's back as Legolas continued to retch, even though he had little left to bring up.

Finally he lay back on his back and Celeborn took a damp cloth to his lips to wipe away and traces of his expelled stomach contents. Legolas hissed in pain as the cloth rasped over his swollen lips and it was then that Celeborn noticed how swollen they really were. They would heal given time but they certainly looked like they had suffered some incredible trauma recently.

He moved up closer to Legolas' head and began to slowly free one end of the black cloak. He then carefully wound it from the Elf's face, taking extreme care when he got down to the parts of the cloth that were touching his skin. As he began to pull the last parts off Legolas whimpered in pain and Celeborn gasped in horror as he realized some of Legolas' skin was coming off with the black cloak.

Legolas cried out in pain and wrenched his head away from the other Elf. His breath quickened and his right eye was wide and the pupil dilated. Celeborn placed a soothing hand to the Elf's shoulder and tried to lay him back down but Legolas was in a state of panic and pulled sharply away from Celeborn.

"Legolas, I am not going to harm you." Celeborn hushed gently as he cautiously approached the frightened Elf. "You have come here for me to help you I'm sure and that is what I'm going to do, but you have to let me."

Legolas' right eye darted from left to right, searching for an escape and yet when it looked to Celeborn in its depth he could see a silent cry for help, to make the pain go away, to heal him.

Just as Celeborn was beginning to worry that Legolas was seriously going to bolt the Elven Lord watched on in despair as the blond Elf's eyes slowly rolled backwards into his skull and his body seemed to give way beneath him. He crumpled into a lifeless heap on the moss-covered ground and Celeborn rushed to his side, scooping the Elf's head carefully into his lap.

He straightened Legolas' body out as best he could and carefully felt for a pulse. He found one, though it was weak, and then placed an ear to Legolas' heat swollen lips to check for breathing. Celeborn was able to sigh in great relief as he felt Legolas' warm breath blowing against his ear.

He lowered the Elf's head to the ground and sat back on his haunches to contemplate what was best to do. He had to get the black cloak off his face either way he saw it and now that Legolas had fallen unconscious once again it seemed to be the perfect time to do so.

Carefully he took up the loose end of the black cloak and continued to unravel it from Legolas' face. Delicately he worked it loose and tried his best to keep the skin beneath it intact but still some of it came away with the fabric. Legolas shuddered but did not wake from his coma-like state. Even Celeborn, who had seen the grave injuries inflicted upon his allies by their enemies in war, had to turn away to catch his breath as he pulled away the last part of the black cloak and tossed it aside.

He swallowed hard and finally turned his eyes back to the mangled mess before him. The majority of the left side of Legolas' face was ruined. The skin was red, blistered and in some places blackened by the heat of the fire. Parts of the skin had melted into patches of uneven skin and in others the skin had entirely come away, having been stuck to the black cloak that Legolas had wrapped about his face. The left eye was swollen shut and puss oozed from the corner of it, it was difficult to tell whether or not he would be able to see from it again. The hair on the left side had been seared off part way back and left a bald patch that seemed an extension of his forehead. Surprisingly his lips were relatively unharmed and once the swelling went down both sides of his mouth would remain as they were.

As for the damage to the left side…Celeborn shook his head solemnly as he contemplated the amount of work he would have to do just to get the skin to heal, the Elf would never look the same again.

He drew his bag of potions and creams up along side him and fished out a vile of lavender coloured oil and a soft white cloth. He tipped a generous amount of the oil onto the cloth and very, very gently began to dab it over Legolas' burns. His face flinched beneath the cool oil but still he didn't wake and Celeborn was most thankful for this, as it would be most painful for Legolas to have to endure even such delicate treatment while awake.

After he had finished administering the oil to his damaged skin Celeborn got up to retrieve a large bowl from his talan. He returned with it to kneel by Legolas' side once again and dug his hand into his bag of medicines in search of a large bottle. His hand finally closed over it and he pulled it carefully from the bag, it was filled to near the top with a clear, colourless liquid. He uncapped the bottle and poured its contents into the bowl. He then took up a generous amount of crisp white bandages and dunked them into the bowl. He pressed them beneath the surface of the liquid and made sure that they were soaked through with it.

Another vial was retrieved, this one containing a pale cream, which was scooped out with a finger and applied very delicately to the burns on Legolas' face. Once the cream had been applied to all of the damaged area he retrieved the soaking bandages and held them above the bowl to let the drips drain from them.

He carefully wrapped the soaked bandages around the left side of Legolas' head, over the wounded area and trying to leave as much of the right side, especially his right eye and his mouth of course, free from the covering of the bandages.

Celeborn lay back on the soft moss of the forest floor and closed his eyes, exhausted from treating the other Elf's wounds. He laid his arms above his head and closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he thought through what was best to do with Legolas in his unstable condition. His talan was not a suitable place to keep the Elven Prince in his condition; he needed somewhere more secluded and permanent, somewhere where he could continue the Elf's treatment without fear of attack from roaming bands of Men or Orcs. Middle Earth certainly wasn't the place it used to be.

Finally he settled on a suitable solution, he would take Legolas to Aglarond Legolas' friendship with their King should ensure their admittance into the cavernous kingdom. He sat up slowly and checked on the sleeping form of Legolas one last time before he made his way up into his talan to pack his things.

* * *

With a grunt Celeborn hoisted Legolas' limp form up onto the back of the Elven Prince's great black stallion, with no horse of his own readily available Celeborn was forced to convince the hot tempered beast that he had to ride him in order to save his master. The horse had finally yielded with a snort and a toss of his head, which was good enough for Celeborn.

He mounted the horse behind Legolas so that he could ensure the body draped over the horse before him did not slip off during their ride.

He wheeled the great stallion around and they took off through the forest. Twigs whipped out at Celeborn's face but he ignored the stinging pain knowing Legolas' pain was far greater. It did not take long to break free of the Golden Woods, of late the land they occupied had greatly diminished and they were not the glorious woods that they had once been.

Onwards Celeborn urged Legolas' steed and the beast responded, they dashed across the plains at a cracking pace and Celeborn knew that while in the open they would have to keep such a pace up or risk being captured. Elves were no longer respected in Middle Earth, especially not in the realms occupied by the Race of Men, the few left either existed in hiding or were bought and traded as slaves of various sorts.

Celeborn had remained free because he had kept himself hidden in his slowly diminishing forest. And Legolas, he was a loyal friend to Aragorn for all the years he had been King of Gondor and so even now that his son was king Legolas was allowed to live in peace in the servitude of Gondor as a soldier and subject. Though Celeborn suspected Gondor's new King, Aragorn's son Eldarion, wished to force the Elf into slavery, a particular kind springing immediately to mind, but could not because of his father's dying request.

It would be a few days before they would reach the home of the Dwarves and Celeborn had to concentrate on riding and monitoring Legolas' health. The bandages would need to be changed soon too but he could not risk a stop along the way.

So on they rode, through day and night and Celeborn was grateful that the weather decided to hold up or they might not have made it with Legolas in such a stable condition. He did not wake for the entire ride, nor did he awaken when Celeborn pulled the horse up outside the gates to Aglarond and banged heavily upon the thick metal.

The Dwarves were welcoming when they realised Celeborn had Legolas with him. They set the Prince up in a spare room and Celeborn was finally able to change his bandages. The healing process had begun and was coming along as well as could be expected. Once he had wrapped fresh bandages about his head and ensured that the Prince was comfortable Gimli set up a watch outside his room in case he woke while he invited Celeborn to his throne room to discuss the Prince's condition. Gimli was worried for his friend and not just for his physical well, he feared this would affect the Elf in far more serious ways.


	3. Pain

**The Seven Seeing Stones**

Author's Note:  
I apologize greatly for this taking so long to get up, but when it rains it pours and I had a bucket load of assignments and CATs to get through before I could get any writing done. I should have the next chapter out much faster though. Thank you to all who have reviewed so far, your encouragement and words of advice keep me going.  
Please enjoy and review.

Three  
Pain

"I wont……" Legolas tossed restlessly in his sleep.

He had not woken for five days now. Sometimes he slept still and deeply, at other times Celeborn would watch him shift and occasionally cry out in his sleep. It was distressing to watch on so helplessly while the Elven Prince was evidently in so much pain. Celeborn did all he could though, dressing the wounds and changing bandages.

Legolas' face glistened with sweat in the torchlight as he tossed about beneath thin sheets. The right side of his face, which wasn't swathed in bandages, was a picture of tortured agony as he whimpered in his dreaming state.

Celeborn sat down on the chair he had set up beside Legolas' bed several days ago and placed a gentle hand on the other Elf's exposed arm. They had stripped him down so he was wearing nothing beneath the thin sheet but still his entire body broke out into a sweat as he fought desperately to live and heal.

"Poor Legolas. What did they do to you?" He rubbed a caring hand up and down the other Elf's arm before he stood to begin the daily process of changing Legolas' bandages.

The bandages wrapped about his middle came away and Celeborn was most pleased to see the progress the welts on his chest were making, another week or two and they would be nothing more than puckered scars. But they had been coming along nicely since he had begun treatment on them it was Legolas' facial wounds that continued to worry him.

After he had peeled away the bandages covering the left side of the Elf's face Celeborn knew it would be months before these wounds healed. They were horrific and he was surprised Legolas had lived through such an ordeal. Treating the wounds was always hard and best done while Legolas was sleeping restfully and not pitching from side to side.

Once he had completed the task of cleaning and applying fresh bandages to Legolas' wounds he placed his medicines off to one side and settled down to watch the Prince for any signs that he may wake soon.

Celeborn had no idea for how long he'd been asleep but when Legolas cried out and sat bolt upright in his bed Celeborn almost fell out of his chair he was snapped from sleep so quickly.

Legolas' good eye darted about the room, it's pupil wide as it tried to see in the dim light. Pale hands gripped the sheets beneath him in panic before that one blue eye fell upon Celeborn's form. The Elf visibly relaxed but still sat stiffly upright as he wearily watched Celeborn gather his wits together and sit back upright in his chair.

"Where have you taken me Celeborn?"

"Be calm my friend, we are in Aglarond in Gimli's halls. I needed to take you somewhere safe to treat your wounds. I assumed you didn't want to go to Minas Tirith or you would have gone there first instead of coming to me."

Legolas turned his face away and stared at the wall.

"I thought so."

"Why can't I see out of my left eye?" Legolas asked in a dramatic change of topic, still refusing to meet Celeborn's gaze.

"It is covered by bandages. The left side of your face has been very badly burnt. Do you not remember?" Celeborn tried to sound as caring as possible but Legolas' attitude was quickly wearing him thin.

"Of course I remember." He spat viciously. "Being tortured like that is not something you forget easily."

Celeborn felt bad for the slightly harsh tone he'd used on the Elf as angry pain filled eyes look over at him from the bed.

"I'm sorry Legolas."

Celeborn wasn't entirely sure why he had apologised and the room fell silent as he contemplated the thought and Legolas shifted restlessly beneath the crisp white sheets. The silence hung thick in the air for some time before Legolas' weak voice broke through it.

"It's his fault. I hate him for it, for what he's done to me."

Celeborn, who had by now sunk back down into his chair, looked up abruptly to meet the dark blue furious eyes that stared back at him. And for the first time since he had begun treating the Mirkwood Elf Celeborn noticed that the once bright blue sparkling eyes had dimmed so that their once brilliant blue was barely discernable.

"Who?"

"Eldarion. He left me there to be tortured, to die, all for his own purposes. Were it not for my friendship with his father I would have been made his slave long ago."

"You cannot know that Legolas."

"You cannot possibly be so ignorant Celeborn. He has turned our people into a race of slaves for the pleasure of his people!"

"You know very well it was not him Legolas. You know the Elven slave trade appeared towards the end of Aragorn's reign but he would never allow it to be legalised, too many of his friends were Elven and he frowned upon the whole thing."

"I know this Celeborn but it still existed as a black market trade."

"Yes but Aragorn kept even that in check. I was only when Eldarion took over rule that his advisors, whom the young King had to place so much trust in as his father was not there to guide him, slowly manipulated and pressured him into accepting the Elven slave trade. It is not a fault of his. His mother was Elvish."

"He blames his mother." Legolas sounded distant but Celeborn's interest was immediately peeked, this was something new to him.

"How do you mean?"

"He told me once when……" Legolas paused for a moment deep in thought, his brow furrowed in what seemed to be frustrated anger. Shaking whatever thought had been bothering him from his head he continued. "He told me he hated his mother for leaving him, for choosing mortality, for choosing to die rather than stay with him."

"What?"

"He hadn't ever told anyone apparently. Why he told me I'll never know."

'Or more likely you'll never tell anyone' Celeborn thought to himself.

"You think he allowed something like cause him to harbour a sudden resentment to the Elven race?"

"I don't know Celeborn. Go ask him yourself! I'm sure he'd tell you, for a price."

Celeborn sighed, he was getting nowhere with this conversation but he suddenly had more than the pressure of misguided advisors to account for the young King of Gondor supporting the Elven slave trade. He still couldn't fully understand it but he was closer to a justified conclusion than he had ever been.

Legolas looked flustered, upset and angry all at once and Celeborn decided he must have finally been coming to terms with the severity of his injuries. Sure enough Legolas raised a hand up to scratch at the bandages on the left side of his face.

"It itches." He complained loudly as he tried to work his fingers in under the bandages.

"It's supposed to itch." Celeborn said, catching Legolas' wrist firmly in his hand and drawing it away from the Elf's face. "That means it's healing."

Legolas growled low in his throat and yanked his hand back from Celeborn.

"Scratching at it won't help though." Celeborn continued, ignoring Legolas' growl. "It's healing quite well and will continue to do so if you allow it the opportunity." The first part was a lie, it wasn't healing all that well, but one never told one's patient so.

Legolas scoffed and turned away from Celeborn to contemplate the wall on the opposite side of the room. The Elven Lord sighed quietly and settled back down in his chair, picking up a book he had taken to reading from the floor his eyes picked up his reading where he had last left off.

The room settled into silence again, Celeborn focusing on his reading while Legolas shifted restlessly beneath his crisp white sheets. Celeborn allowed an eye to stray above the line of his book to observe the other Elf's restless behaviour. Just as he was about to put his book down and ask if there was anything he could get for the Elf to make him more comfortable Legolas suddenly looked straight at Celeborn and spoke out.

"I want to see it."

"You want to see what Legolas?"

"I want to see my face Celeborn."

"Legolas I'm not sure that's such a good idea…"

"Bring me a looking glass Celeborn or I'll get up and fetch on myself!" Legolas furiously cut the other Elf off.

Celeborn still thought that seeing his face when it was yet to fully heal was a bad idea but the last thing he needed was the Elf chasing about the Dwarf Kingdom in search of a mirror in his condition, likely to collapse after only a few steps.

"Alright, if you promise to wait here patiently Legolas I will fetch you a looking glass."

The younger Elf nodded stiffly and waved Celeborn off towards the door. The Elven Lord rose stiffly from the seat and slowly made his way off in search of a mirror. Why he felt he had to pander to the younger Elf's every wish and whim he did no know, he supposed he pitied him in some way for what had happened to him. He couldn't imagine how he would feel loosing half of his face. That was also why he was so unsure about providing Legolas with a mirror with which to look upon his deformity, he was not sure how the Elf would take it and he truly feared the worst for his now obviously fragile spirit.

* * *

By the time Celeborn returned, a handheld mirror clutched in his grip, Legolas was fidgeting restlessly as he sat beneath the sheets, his back propped up by several pillows.

His eyes immediately flicked to Celeborn's as the older Elf Lord entered the room. Blue eyes strayed to the dusty mirror clutched in his hand and he held out his own for it, glaring as he noted a slight hesitation in the Elf's steps.

"Do not try and deter me now Celeborn, just give me the looking glass and you may be seated again."

Celeborn almost cried out in objection to the Elf speaking down at him in such a way but he heaved a sigh and decided Legolas was in for enough when he finally saw his face as it was.

So Celeborn tentatively handed Legolas the mirror and watched as the blond Elf wiped a hand across the mirror's dusty surface to clear it. He then slowly held it up before his eyes to catch his reflection in it.

He narrowed his eyes, as a face that resembled his own but was half swathed in bandages stared back at him. He lifted a tentative hand to touch at the white bandages, but only for a second, before he dropped the hand back to the bed sheets at his side. Dull blue eyes flicked from the mirrors surface to meet Celeborn's concerned gaze.

"Take them off for me."

Celeborn knew what he spoke of but he did not leap from his chair to comply with the request.

"I'm not so sure Legolas. Is it not enough that you have seen the extent to which your face is bandaged?"

"I can feel that damn it!" The younger Elf hissed through clenched teeth. "I want to know what I look like underneath them. Take them off Celeborn or so help me I will rip them off myself!"

Celeborn certainly could not have Legolas doing such a thing. It would undo a lot of the hard work and time he had spent healing the Prince's terrible wounds. But he doubted he would be able to talk the Elf out of it so he rose up from his chair and slowly made his way to the bedside.

Leaning carefully over Legolas he untucked the free edge of the white bandages and began to slowly unravel them. The going was easy for most of the way, Legolas shifting his head from side to side and back and forth to make the bandages easier to pull free.

It was only when Celeborn tugged ever so gently at the first part of the bandages that were touching his shin that the Elf roared in pain and jerked his head away. Unfortunately Celeborn could not release the end of the bandage he was holding in time and it was pulled roughly from Legolas' face, causing the pain to be far worse for him.

"Shhh." Celeborn tried to sooth him but Legolas only turned his head back to face the other Elf and gritted his teeth.

"Do it. Finish what you've started. I can take it." He nodded sharply as he spoke and Celeborn carefully resumed his task.

The rest of the bandages came away with only a few small hisses of pain issued from between Legolas' tightly pressed lips. Celeborn was still not happy with the level of healing witnessed in the Elf's wounds and would have liked to wait a while more before allowing Legolas to see his reflection but here they were now, bandages removed and a mirror clutched in Legolas' hand.

With the pile of bandages draped over his arms Celeborn took several weary steps back from the bed's edge as Legolas slowly lifted the mirror up to his eyes.

The mirror paused before Legolas' face for a few seconds before Celeborn had to duck out of its way as it was hurled across the room and crashed into the wall, shattering upon impact before each piece clattered to the floor.

The cry that fell from Legolas' lips was like the wail of a tortured animal. Though Celeborn supposed he should not be too surprised by such a thing, the poor Elf was indeed a tortured creature.

He turned his eyes from the pained site before him and as he heard deep sobs rack the Elf's frame he slipped quietly from the room, leaving Legolas to grieve alone as he would no doubt want. The heavy door closing behind him to muffle the Elf's agonised wails.


	4. Two Stones With One King

**The Seven Seeing Stones**

Author's Note:  
Oh dear I seem to have lost a few people, that will teach me for lagging in my updates I guess. Anyway to anyone who is still reading I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review.

Author's Note 2:  
Also if anyone has a strong grasp of Elvish I would greatly appreciate your help in a translation. I have done as best I can with my very limited resources but the name in used the latter part of the chapter "Avaanta" needs to translate roughly to something along the lines of 'without face' or 'faceless'. As it is really the translation that is most important rather than the sound of the name I would greatly appreciate any help in fixing it if I have it wrong.

Four  
Two Stones With One King

Five heads jerked in the direction of the throne room's entrance as the heavy doors crashed against the walls. A figure swathed in a scorched black cloak strode gracefully into the marble hall. The clang of the doors reverberated off the walls as the figure continued his march between the tall columns.

"Who do you think you are?" The young man perched upon Gondor's throne leapt to his feet in outrage.

Upon his brow, nestled amongst wavy brown shoulder length hair, sat the crown of the King but it looked cumbersome and out of place on his young head. He barely filled out the robes his father used to don as if they were a second skin. His eyes blazed in anger and yet in their depth there was uncertainty.

The cloaked figure did not reply but as he drew closer the other four men in the room stepped quickly out of his way, their loyalty to their King did not seem to stretch as far as giving their lives for him.

The young King shrank back from the menacing figure as he ascended the stairs to the throne, disregarding entirely the laws that forbade such an action. Eldarion backed up so far he was forced to climb up onto his throne and crouch there beneath the shadow of the tall figure. He gasped before releasing a blood-curdling scream as he saw the face beneath the dark hood of the cloak.

A pale face with finely chiselled features; dull blue eyes and perfect pink lips stared out at him. But it was only half a face, the other half was obscured by a mask made of a bright metal. It covered the whole left side of the face except for the nose and mouth, a furious blue eye looked fiercely out of an eye hole cut into the metallic mask and the young king's lower lips trembled in fear at the frightful oddity before him.

"W-who are you and what right to you think you have storming in here unannounced I am…" Eldarion's voice had evened out by the time he was cut off by the masked figure before him.

"I know very well who you are Eldarion. You are King of Gondor and son of Aragorn, but I think if he had lived to see what you have become he might not be so proud to have you for a son."

That voice… Eldarion knew that voice. He knew it well too but he was sure he would remember someone as fearsome as the man before him if he were employed within his city. Truth be told Eldarion knew very little about the city he was king of and even less about his subjects, Aragorn had been a wonderful king and had done so much for the kingdom and its people, his son seemed to spend the majority of his time enjoying being king rather than focusing on the responsibilities that came with the title.

"Well how can you know so much about you when I don't even know who you are." Eldarion tried to sound strong but his voice came out barely above a squeak.

The masked stranger erupted into manic laughter before he reached a hand down to grip the front of the king's tunic and pull his face up close to his.

"You do not recognise me Eldarion? I was your father's dearest friend and for far too many years your loyal soldier, but no more King of Men. I am done."

He forced the king roughly back down into his throne and spun on his heel to swiftly descend the small flight of stairs to the ground. The four men present shrunk back from him in horror and the guards, who should have run to the king's aid as soon as the figure had set foot on the stairs, seemed almost pleased with the strangers actions.

He slowly turned his head to look at the young king trembling in his throne over his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes and glared fiercely up at the young man.

"One more thing Eldarion. I'll be taking Gondor's Seeing Stones with me."

"What?" Eldarion looked confused but this was only a front for the true fear welling up inside of him, no one knew about the Seeing Stones. He had been sure to keep them a secret that very few in the kingdom knew. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"The two Palantiri you keep locked in the tower. I'll be taking them with me."

Finished with the king he turned and strode elegantly from the room, smiling to himself for the first time in many months though it was really more of a satisfied smirk.

Eldarion was left in stunned silence as the cloaked figure disappeared out the large door. He did not know who he was but he feared him greatly for a reason he could not wholly explain. He was frozen in his throne, unable to move or even speak despite the fact that he knew the masked intruder would be after the Palantiri in the Citadel's great tower.

"Guards" He tried but it came out as hopeless gasp so he swallowed and tried again, his voice coming out much stronger this time. "Guards, don't just stand there! Get yourselves up to the tower room and stand guard at the door. No one enters do you hear me, and kill any who try."

His guards hurried from the throne room to put into action the king's orders. The young man watched them go before his noticed his four councillors were still standing at the base of his throne.

"What are you all still doing here? Get out and make yourselves!" He yelled at them in frustration.

He sat fidgeting in his stone throne like a child getting ready to throw a tantrum. He searched his memory frantically for any friend of his father's who had worn a mask similar to the one the stranger had been wearing. Not surprisingly he came up with no one, someone like that stuck in your mind after only one meeting. His voice had been so familiar and yet he did not know a single one of his subjects well enough to match a voice to a face. Not even one of his council members or the whores he took into his bed each night would be familiar enough to him for a voice to match a face.

Rage slowly took over any other emotion he had been feeling since the stranger exited the room. He had been humiliated in his own throne room, in his kingdom, by some black-cloaked stranger with a silver mask. Eldarion would not stand for that, not when he was King of Gondor. This stranger would not leave his kingdom alive and he would certainly not leave with his Palantiri, not when he had a hired Elf swiftly tracking down the remaining five stones. Soon they would all be his.

* * *

Two guards stood by the entrance to the great tower in the courtyard of the White Tree, idly chatting between themselves, that is until a tall, elegant stranger strode up to them, a dark hooded cloak obscuring his face from view.

They looked up from their conversation and both stepped inwards, effectively blocking the stranger's path into the tower. One of the guards ran his eyes over the cloaked figure but was unable to see his face clearly enough to identify him. The other spoke.

"Identify yourself and your business in the White Tower."

"I go by Avaanta. It has not always been my name but things have changed. I've come to take the Palantiri."

The stranger spoke in such a level manner that the two guards had to exchange a confused look, neither sure of what to make of him. Both were certain their King would not let anyone in to see his Palantiri without himself being present, but this Avaanta certainly sounded as though he had been given permission to walk right in, unopposed.

"Are you going to step aside or not? After all, I don't think King Eldarion would be too pleased to hear you troubled me while I was trying to carry out his orders."

The two exchanged another look. Something still felt off to both of them but lately their King and been fraternizing with some strange folks and everyone's loyalties towards him had been waning. The one who had spoken shrugged his shoulders to his companion and stepped aside. The other man followed suit and the cloaked stranger who called himself Avaanta strode by them and into the tower.

He smirked to himself beneath the shadow of his hood, pleased by how easy it had been to gain access to the tower. Now all he had to do was climb the great winding staircase to the room at it's top, break the door down, take the two Palantiri into his possession, and escape the tower and the city before Eldarion had time to rally his guards after him.

He dashed up the stairs, taking them two at a time in his hurry to reach the tower's top. He reached a slender hand, a white scar across his palm, up to tug the hood back off his head. The long black cloak swirled about him as he climbed but his head and face were no longer obscured. The silver mask that covered half of his face caught the light that filtered in through the small arched windows dotted along the wall and shone brilliantly. It was newly crafted and many hours of painstakingly hard and loving labour had gone into it. It was a beautiful peace of craftsmanship and served to hide the hideousness beneath it well. His features twisted into a menacing scowl every time he though of his spoilt face. The scars on his torso did not bother him but he had once been considered an Elf of great beauty, desired by many and he had used these qualities to his advantage. Now he found himself cruelly stripped of that beauty, left with half the face he had been so admired for. So he had changed his name to one that suited him better, now that he was so hideous, and he would have his revenge upon the one he thought responsible.

Avaanta almost laughed at how easy it had been to break the door open to the room at the tower's top. It had been almost as easy as getting by the two guards at its base. He swung the door open and stepped into the room. Swirls of dust danced in shafts of light pouring in through the four windows arranged about the circular room, and there in its centre atop a raised platform hidden beneath a sheet of heavy green velvet was the outline of two great orbs. The Palantir of Minas Anor, used by Denethor during the war of the ring, and the Palantir of Orthanc, which had been captured from Saruman during the war or the ring and entrusted by Gandalf to Aragorn when he had been pronounced king. The two stones had remained hidden away in the tower ever since and only the King of Gondor had access to them, but Aragorn had never touched them the same could not be said for Eldarion though.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he stepped slowly towards them. With these two in his possession he would be almost halfway to obtaining them all, and more importantly Eldarion would be two further away from completing his goal of collecting all seven.

He had left the door open and his acute hearing suddenly picked up raised voices at the base of the tower, drifting up the many winding stairs. He stoped beside the covered Palantiri and listened carefully to try and see if he could discern what was being said. It was no use, they were too far below but he knew for certain they would begin climbing the stairs after him soon enough.

So he turned his attention back to the Palantiri, resting upon the stone slab beneath the dusty velvet. Carefully the wrapped them in their velvet cover and then tied the ends of the material together to form a sort of handle so that he could thread an arm through and sling the bundle over his back.

He knew there was no hope of escape down the stairs as he could already hear multiple sets of footsteps hurrying up the stairs. Avaanta looked to the four windows and hurried over to the one closest to him. Carefully poking his head out he saw a gathering of the city's guards milling about in the courtyard. Not that window.

He pulled his head back in and headed to the window on the opposite side of the room. This one looked down over the edge of the cliff upon which the Citadel was perched. It was a long way down but it would certainly be the quickest way into the city without being seen and from there he could slip off to where he had left his steed and ride away.

The footsteps were drawing ever closer and it was time for Avaanta to leave. He made sure the bundle containing the two Palantiri was secure over his back before he swung a long, elegant leg carefully out the window. The other leg followed and tightly gripping the window ledge with his hands he spun himself around and lowered himself out the window.

Hanging precariously hundreds of meters above the ground he slipped the toe of a soft leather boot into a crack in the stoneworks and slowly began to climb down the side of the tower. Being nimble of foot the climb was quick for him and he could hear the guards yelling as they searched for him high above his head.

Feet clad in soft green leather touched down on hard stone and he glanced up at the towers top. His long golden hair flowed down his back and was kept off his face and the mask that covered half of it with a series of intricate braids at the side of his head.

The only good thing he could say about the injuries his face sustained was that once Celeborn had cleaned the puss from his left eye they has discovered he could still see from it. Two dull blue eyes gazed up at the window he had just descended from and quickly pressed his back to the stone wall as a guard stuck his head out and looked down. Avaanta held his breath as he pressed himself as hard up against the wall as he could, waiting for the guard to spot him and raise the alarm.

He heard the yell and broke from the wall and into a run. Dashing through the city's streets he weaved in and out of throngs of busy residents going about their daily business. Some gasped in fright when they saw the silver mask that hid half his face and mother's drew their children to them, covering their eyes.

His black cloak fluttered behind him as he ran and he adjusted the bundle slung across his back as he rounded a corner and found his horse waiting patiently for him. He pulled himself up onto the beast's back and once he was settled on its back the horse galloped down the city's main street and out of its great gates.

They were free. He had done it. He had walked right in there, stood face to face with Gondor's King and had not been recognised. Not only that but he was leaving with the King's two Palantiri; Eldarion's most prized possessions were now his.

He cast a look back over his shoulder but didn't see anyone pursuing him. Focusing his attention back on where he was going he decided to ride off into the mountains so as to throw off anyone who may be trying to pursue him, before riding to his new place of hiding where he had left the other Palantir in his possession.

His thoughts turned to the next stone as he rode on towards the mountains, the cold wind blowing down from their tops not affecting him in the slightest. He had heard rumours of its location, actually told to him by Eldarion who had hired him to find them on his behalf. Finding it would be quite another thing thought and with the stones of Annuminas, Minas Anor, and Orthanc already in his possession he knew the last four would be harder to find as the details of their where about were a little more sketchy. Maybe Celeborn knew more. Avaanta resolved to ask him as soon as he had stowed the two Palantiri slung across his back in the hiding spot he'd picked out. Then he would go and see Celeborn and see what he could learn from the older Elf Lord regarding the Palantiri.


	5. Avaanta

**The Seven Seeing Stones**

Author's Note:  
I'm very sorry about the short chapter but life has been a little hectic.  
Anyway hope you enjoy and please review.

Five  
Avaanta

"Legolas you cannot be serious!"

"I have asked you not to call me by that name Celeborn!"

"It is the name your father gave you. I do not think he would be too pleased to find out you were calling yourself Avaanta now."

"He is no longer here and it is not his decision. Legolas is gone, cruelly stripped from me and that is the end of it. I will go by Avaanta now and you shall call me by no other name."

"Avaanta – without face, why would you call yourself by such a name. It holds none of the beauty and grace an Elven Prince is named for."

"Celeborn I tire of your lecturing, are you going to help me or not?"

"I still believe it is folly Legolas" The Elven Prince shot him a deadly glare. "Avaanta" Celeborn sighed in defeat.

"I did not come to ask you for your opinion Lord Celeborn."

"Very well, I shall help you to find the Palantiri you seek Avaanta but in return you must allow me to follow with you. Of late I have found myself being the subject of more and more raids. It would seem the Men have lost many of their Elven servants and I do not wish to become the property of some Lord to do with as he chooses."

"So go across the sea into the West with the others Lord Celeborn, nothing keeps you here."

"You keep me here Avaanta. I promised your father I would bring you with me when I came so until you are willing to join me I cannot leave."

Avaanta scoffed at the much older Elf who continued to look sternly at him. Finally Avaanta heaved a heavy sigh and nodded in agreement with the other Elf's requests.

"Very well, what is it exactly you wish of me?"

"Only that I may ride with you and stay where you stay. With two of us we would be more capable of fending of would be captors. I will not however aid you in any way with the physical taking of the stones."

"Good, I would not want you to. You would only get in the way and become a hindrance."

Celeborn looked less than impressed with the attitude he was receiving from the younger Elf but he had made a promise to Thranduil and he intended to keep it.

"I will not get in your way young Elf."

"Glad to hear it Celeborn. Now you can start being helpful by telling me where you think we might find the Palantir of Osgiliath."

"From what I have heard it was destroyed, but that is only rumour. You could try looking into one of the stones though."

Avaanta raised a questioning eyebrow at the other Elf.

"If you already have one of the stones that were originally placed in Gondor then you can use one of them to look into the other two with relative ease."

"Do you know how to do this?"

"Yes."

"Would you do so if I were to ask?"

"What do you want with them Avaanta?"

"I haven't decided yet." He said, turning his back on the Elven Lord.

"You haven't decided or you don't want to tell me." Celeborn said as he placed a hand on Avaanta's shoulder and turned him back to face him.

Avaanta pulled roughly away from him and scowled at the other Elf. Celeborn merely raised an eyebrow and waited patiently for the younger Elf to answer him.

"I haven't decided." Avaanta insisted through gritted teeth.

Celeborn sighed and shook his head as he watched an Elf he once truly respected rummage about for his seared black cloak. Why he was so attached to the thing Celeborn did not know. It had been a fine garment before he had singed it by wrapping it about his head, not to mention all the skin he had watched the younger Elf painstakingly peel from the fine weaving of the material. Celeborn closed his eyes and shuddered at the horrible image.

As for the once beautiful Elf, whom even Celeborn had found attractive at times, not only was his face now scarred beyond recognition but the torture he had suffered had changed him as well. He was no longer the Elf Celeborn remembered, he was different, darker somehow and Celeborn was not sure he liked the changes, nor wanted to be involved in any plans this new Legolas had in mind. But, as he reminded himself once again, he had promised his father he would keep an eye on him.

Avaanta had by now found his cloak and had fastened it about his shoulders. He looked over at the other Elf who seemed to be so lost within his own thoughts there was probably no hope of getting him back.

"Celeborn we're leaving. If you're going to help me to find the last four Palantiri I suggest you come back into your body so we can go."

"Of course Avaanta." He shook his head and then threw a confused look over at Avaanta. "Leaving? You don't know where we're going."

"Osgiliath." Avaanta said with a toothy grin that Celeborn found slightly unsettling.

"Why Osgiliath?"

Avaanta seemed to be ignoring the question and Celeborn was about to ask it again when it dawned upon him that the other Elf knew exactly why he wanted to go to Osgiliath.

"You know where the Palantir is don't you."

This time Avaanta truly did ignore him and finally Celeborn heaved a sigh of defeat.

"Fine I shall fetch my stead and then we shall head to Osgiliath, though I suggest we are discreet about it as Eldarion probably already has half of Gondor's forces out looking for you."

Avaanta mounted his great black steed and watched as Celeborn settled on the back of his silvery grey horse.

"You sound like my father trying to scold me when I was younger." He scoffed once Celeborn looked over at him.

"If your father were here now Legolas he would have more than a scolding in store for you."

Avaanta chose to ignore the improper use of his old name as well as the comment in favour of urging his steed off into a gallop. Celeborn growled in frustration at the childish attitude of the younger Elf and instructed his horse to take off after the black stallion.

* * *

Night had fallen by now but the moon was full and the metallic mask over the damaged half of Avaanta's face caught its radiant light and shimmered in the dark. His black cloaked whipped about behind him as he rode his horse at a binding pace across the plains of Middle Earth.

Celeborn kept his silvery steed in step with Avaanta's, he worried they would wear the horses out too quickly if they kept this pace but when he expressed these thoughts to the younger Elf all he received in reply was a cold stare.

Finally he'd had enough of this foolish behaviour from the wayward Elf and pulled his horse out into the path of the black stallion. It reared up in anger, flailing its legs in front of it before crashing back to the ground.

"This is foolish Avaanta! You are going to kill the horses if you force them to keep this up! Now I suggest you rest them for the night."

"Would it not be safer to travel by night?"

"You have a point." Celeborn sighed and Avaanta smirked. "Very well, we'll ride through the night but come dawn we will find a forest or cave or somewhere to rest them."

"If you insist Celeborn."

And with nothing but that said he manoeuvred his horse around Celeborn's and set off at a gallop once again. Celeborn hurriedly turned his horse and followed after the masked Elf in no mood to have to deal with a rebelling male.

* * *

A stabbing pain in his ribs broke his peaceful sleep; it felt like a foot had connected with his side. His eyes shot open and gasped in shock as half a face stared back at him. The face scoffed and the boot kicked him again.

"Get up." Avaanta growled, in an even more fowl mood after the other Elf's negative reaction to his appearance.

He then stalked off to the other side of the small cave they had sheltered in for the day to fish some food out of their packs. Celeborn rubbed sleep from his eyes and winced as he sat up, lifting his tunic up it was evident there was going to be a bruise where Avaanta had kicked him and he glared at the other Elf's back.

Finally he stood and walked over to sit across from Avaanta. The younger Elf handed him a crust of bread and a tin cup filled with an Elven herbal tea without so much as making eye contact but Celeborn accepted it gratefully none the less.

He wasn't sure what to make of this Legolas, hunched beneath his black cloak. Weary eyes shifting slowly about the cave as though he could not settle his gaze in one place, he seemed uneasy in his new guise but then with everything he had been through lately the Elven Lord guessed that he must have been questioning everything about his life and the trust he thought he has correctly placed in people. All of that had changed in only a few days; sadly the young Elf would never be the same again.

"Celeborn you need to learn to focus your attention on not letting your mind wander."

Celeborn looked up from his half eaten bread and his tea, which was now stone cold, to watch the other Elf duck out the small entrance to the cave. He sighed and poured his cold tea out over the fire, dousing the flames. Cramming the last of the bread into his mouth he followed Avaanta out of the tiny cave and into the starlit night.

Avaanta was already upon his horse's back and waiting less than patiently for Celeborn to follow his example. Celeborn lifted himself onto his horse's back but before Avaanta had a chance to speed off he walked his horse into his path.

"Oh what is it now Celeborn!" Avaanta threw his arms into the air in frustration at the other Elf's constant interruptions.

"You can't expect to be able to order me around as you have been."

"Then go! See if I care. I don't need your help all that badly, it's you who'll be worse off on your own."

Damn, he was right and Celeborn knew it. He shifted uneasily in his saddle but refused to meet Avaanta's cold gaze. A few moments of silence passed before the younger Elf finally spoke.

"Good. Then if you have nothing else you wish to complain about, we can go."

* * *

"Avaanta!" Celeborn called out to the rider on his left as they rode through the night. "How do you plan to find the Palantir of Osgiliath? I heard it was destroyed."

"Apparently so was the Palantir of Annuminas, but I found that didn't I?" Avaanta answered smugly.

"Yes and lost half of your face in the process." Celeborn snapped.

Avaanta fell silent and flicked his gaze forwards, avoiding eye contact with the other Elf. They rode in silence for sometime before Avaanta finally answered Celeborn's previous question.

"Eldarion hired me to find the Palantiri for him. He discussed their presumed location in detail with me. The Palantir of Osgiliath lies at the bottom of the Great River, not too far down stream of where the ruined city lies."

"And you plan to what, dive down to the bottom after it?"

Avaanta did not respond but that was all the answer Celeborn needed from the other Elf.

"You cannot be serious Avaanta! The river is enormous. You'll never find it."

"I'll find it and when I do you can be in charge of feeding us for a week." A tiny smile graced the masked Elf's lips.

"You're on." Celeborn answered with genuine confidence as they slowed their horses to find a place to rest during the daylight hours.

They were less than a night's ride from the ruined city of Osgiliath and in Avaanta's mind less than a night away from possessing a fourth Palantir. He was secretly grateful for the company of Celeborn but worried about the older Elf's curiosity. Sooner or later he was going to have to reveal his plans to him…or dispose of him.


	6. The Fourth In The River

**The Seven Seeing Stones**

Author's note:  
Yes this has been a bit delayed but I have an Anatomy mid-semester to blame it on. I'm sorry about the short chapter but I'll try and get the next one out quickly to make up for it.

Six  
The Fourth In The River

Celeborn woke early after a fitful day of sleep, the sun had only just begun to set and the stars were not yet out. He looked over to the sleeping form of Avaanta, who even while asleep refused to remove the metallic mask the Dwarves had crafted for him. Celeborn knew what lay beneath it though, he knew exactly what the scarred half of Avaanta's face looked like and it certainly was not pretty. But he had cared for him through it all and surely he didn't feel as though he had to hide his face from him.

"Why are you watching me while I sleep." Avaanta said as he opened his right eye to look up at Celeborn.

"I was wondering why you sleep with that mask on."

"I don't want anyone to look at my hideous face."

The Elf's words were painfully honest and his mood was darkened by it. Celeborn pitied him in that moment, unable to see the beauty he still held despite his facial deformity.

"With all due respect Avaanta I treated your wounds and it really could have been far worse."

The younger Elf scoffed and turned onto his side so that his back was to Celeborn, forcing an exasperated sigh from the Elven Lord. He settled back down to try and catch an hour or two of extra sleep.

* * *

He woke again only an hour or two later to the shuffling of Avaanta's soft leather boots on the stone floor of the ruined building they were hiding out in. It was cold in Osgiliath down by the river but neither Elf felt it. Celeborn did think it odd that Men would build a city here though when it was so obviously cold in winter. None lived there now though.

Celeborn pulled himself up from the stone and looked up to question Avaanta but the other Elf had already disappeared. Hurrying after him the Elven Lord found the damaged Prince standing by the water's edge, carefully surveying the slow flowing mass.

Avaanta then began to strip off his clothing, tugging off each boot before throwing them further up the bank, away from the water. His hands pulled his outer tunic up over his head and it quickly joined his boots on the bank. The clasps of his silvery under tunic were undone and he let the garment slip from his shoulders, catching it with his right hand he tossed it over with the rest. Celeborn could only see the Elf's back but he knew each scar that traced across his thorax and abdomen as well as if they were on his own body. Finally Legolas jerked his tights down and stepped out of them, using a foot to gracefully flick them up onto the clothing pile.

He strode confidently out into the water but only made it in up to his knees before he stopped at Celeborn's request.

"How are you planing to locate the Palantir in the river in the dark?"

Avaanta said nothing but opened his left hand and held it out to Celeborn. Nestled in his palm was the phial Galadriel had given Frodo on their quest so many years ago.

"Where did you get that?" Celeborn asked, slightly suspicious of the other Elf.

Avaanta only smiled in response before whispering the Elven words to light the phial, bright white light erupting from it as Legolas waded further into the river.

Celeborn had been almost blinded by the sudden flash of light and had to hide his eyes beneath a hand but then, accompanied by a splash, the light dimmed considerably. When he looked back to the river, even in the darkness of the night he could see Avaanta's naked form swimming beneath the surface, illuminated by the phials bright light.

"He's thought of bloody everything." Celeborn muttered to himself as he wondered just how long the Elf had truly been planning this endeavour.

He slipped smoothly beneath the water's surface, holding his breath as he cast his eyes and the light about under the water in search of the Palantir's polished surface. The mask settled on the left side of his face was cumbersome in the water and he considered removing it and tossing it to the bank but knowing then that he would have to face Celeborn's stare when he returned he gritted his teeth and put up with it.

Kicking his feet furiously he surfaced and gulped in a lungful of air, not having realised he'd been holding his breath for quite that long.

"Anything?" Celeborn called out from the bank.

"Just keep watch!" Avaanta yelled back before he ducked beneath the surface again.

The light certainly made seeing a lot easier but he could still see he would have his work cut out for himself. He set up a search grid for himself, travelling from one bank of the river to the other, slowly making his way down stream as he cut back and fourth across the great river.

A hundred or so meter's downstream of his starting point his lungs were aching and his muscles were tiring and then he found what he was looking for. He spotted it, poking just above the silt at the river's bottom but was out of air and had to quickly surface and gulp in a breath of he before going back down.

Kicking furiously to the bottom he dug the precious orb up out of the slit and hauled it into his arms. Sinking his bare feet in to the river's gritty bottom he pushed up and sped towards the surface, breaking free with a gasp, sucking fresh air into his lungs as he kicked his legs hard beneath him to keep himself and the Palantir above the surface.

The Palantiri had always felt heavy but now, struggling with tired muscles to stay afloat he realised how much the stones truly weighed. He didn't bother to swim back upstream, choosing instead to make for the bank and walk back to the ruined city where Celeborn was no doubt still waiting for him. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do with the Elf but had a feeling he would come in handy yet so he kept him around, really his use had run out when he had finished healing Avaanta's wounds but the Prince would never tell him this.

Avaanta strode confidently, even in his nakedness, back into the ruins of Osgiliath to find Celeborn seated atop a turret, hidden from sight but with a good view of the lands around them. The Elf stood as Avaanta approached and a rose an eyebrow as he saw the wet Palantir nestled in his arms.

"So you found it then."

"I did." Avaanta stated simply, plucking his dark cloak from the ground and wrapping it about the glistening stone in his arms.

Celeborn climbed down from his perch and landed gracefully beside Avaanta. He waited patiently as the other Elf dressed, watching dull blue eyes that never removed their gaze from the round from on the ground by his feet. Celeborn worried more now than ever that this desire to possess the Palantiri was consuming Avaanta.

"And what now Legolas?"

Furious blue eyes turned on Celeborn and the Elven Lord took a tentative step back at the fire blazing in those eyes.

"I have asked you not to call me by that name!"

Avaanta lowered his shoulder and landed a heavy tackle in Celeborn's abdomen, sending the both of them crashing into the water behind them.

Celeborn found himself completely submerged beneath the water with the weight of the other Elf pressing down on him. He struggled furiously beneath Avaanta but to his horror the other Elf seemed to be holding him under. He finally landed a kick and felt the pressure on his chest ease up slightly, enough for him to force Avaanta off him and struggled to the surface where he gulped in a lungful of air.

"What the hell are you doing?" Celeborn spluttered at the other Elf, completely loosing his composure for a moment.

"I asked you not to call me that Celeborn but you just can't seem to remember that simple request."

Avaanta advanced on him again and Celeborn ducked and weaved out of his way as he suddenly realised the Elven Prince was actually trying to harm him.

"Avaanta! What are you doing?" He stumbled through the now thigh deep water to avoid the raging blond Elf.

"Oh you remember my name now!" Avaanta hollered as he charged at the older Elf again, this time catching him round the thighs and knocking him off his feet and back into the water.

Celeborn cried out but it was cut off by a gurgle as his head disappeared beneath the water again. Before Celeborn could break the surface he felt strong hands grip his shoulders and hold him under. Precious air rushed from his lungs as he cried out in surprise, chocking as river water flooded into his mouth.

A fearful thought stood prominently in his mind; he was going to die. Avaanta was trying to drown him and if he didn't react in the next few seconds he would not be coming back up. His life did not flash before his eyes but as he contemplated his position a sudden surge of energy rushed through him and he managed to force the other Elf off him and struggle to the river's surface.

Gulping in air Celeborn struggled over to the river's bank, hauling himself to dry land as Avaanta picked himself up from the water. Dull blue eyes blazing in fury turned upon the rapidly escaping Elf. The younger Elf stood waist deep in the river, watching Celeborn, as he stood on the river's bank looking frightened and confused.

"Avaanta…I don't know what to say."

"I suggest you go Celeborn. Run like the coward you so obviously are. You had no plans to ever help me, you want to take them from me…I can see it in your eyes."

The younger Elf had gone quite mad.

"Take what from you?" Celeborn paused for only a moment before he answered his own question. "The Palantiri? If you think I want to take them from you Avaanta you have gone completely mad!"

"Have I?"

Avaanta took a step forward and grinned wolfishly as Celeborn took a cautionary step back.

"Stay where you are Avaanta…"

"Or what Celeborn? What will you do?" Madness danced in Avaanta's dull eyes, lighting them ever so slightly in a way Celeborn had never seen before.

"You stay right there Avaanta, the King of Gondor will know of your deeds soon enough."

The young blond Elf threw back his head and laughed menacingly.

"You plan to walk up to the King of Gondor and turn in an Elf by a name he's never heard of?"

"He has heard of you Legolas, he knows you well."

"He thinks Legolas is dead."

"What?" Celeborn looked legitimately shocked.

"I overheard him telling his advisors so before I burst in on their little meeting. Not so confident now are you? All he knows about the man who stole his precious stones is that his is an Elf and wears a mask. You walk in there and he's going to have you arrested, with or without a mask." Avaanta grinned slyly in self-satisfaction.

"Well I'm certainly not staying with an Elf who is trying to kill me."

"Fine, go. See how you fare on your own. I'm going on with or without you."

Celeborn stood, eyes locked with the other Elf for sometime before he finally turned on his heal and walked, dripping wet, to his horse. He mounted the steed and it complained slightly beneath him as the Elven Lord sat himself upon his back, wet clothing pooling about him.

"Who knows, I may see you again Celeborn. Though I believe if I do it will be at the service of some Man clever enough to capture you, it's only a matter of time and you know it."

Avaanta sounded close by all of a sudden and Celeborn turned his horse to find the Elf leaning casually against a crumbled column, rivulets of water running from his soaked clothing.

Celeborn shot him a nasty look before gently digging his heals into his horse's side and sending the animal off at a gallop. Never looking back at the Elf he left behind. Once such a gentle and caring creature Legolas or Avaanta was now a beast who cared little for anything but himself and those stones. Celeborn supposed the new name, though unnecessary in his eyes, was fitting as the Elf had changed so much it was as though an entirely new personality had emerged, one that Celeborn was not so sure he liked.

* * *

Author's Note 2:  
Laurenke1: Yes it is a very different side to Legolas but that's sort of what I was trying for, I wanted to put a new possible angle to his character given the circumstances of the story. Hopefully it's believable.  
THECheeseTurkey Thank you very much for your consistant and kind reviews. I hope your vacation was fun  
Thank you also to Crecy and Deana for your early reviews. 


	7. Alone

**The Seven Seeing Stones**

Author's Note:  
Sorry again for the delay but I've been struggling a little bit with this story so hopefully this chapter works out alright.  
Please read and review.

Seven  
Alone

Moonlight glinted off the mask that obscured half of Avaanta's face as he watched the retreating form of Celeborn upon his steed disappearing off into the darkness. Once he lost sight of him Avaanta bent down to retrieve the fourth Palantir, wrapped in his black cloak, from the ground where he had left it before the fight with Celeborn had broken out.

Mounting his dark steed he held the Palantir tightly in the crook of one arm and tugged on the reins with the other. He set the horse at a slow walk along the bank of the river, soon they would come across a rocky hillside where a crevasse in its face would lead the Elf to a deep, hidden cave where he had been storing the Palantiri he had seized. He had been sure not to allow Celeborn to accompany him when he had deposited the other three stones so had no qualms over leaving them there while he was gone.

Emerging from the cut in the rock face, which was a tight fit even for the slim Elf, he cast his eyes about in the darkness to be sure that no one had seen him emerge. Taking up his horse's reins he lead the beast towards the water's edge. As he set a foot into the shallows the horse bucked its head, trying to tug the reins out of the Elf's hand.

"Quite your complaining. You like swimming, or you did the last time I led you into the water."

The horse snorted and allowed Avaanta to lead him into the river. It was quite shallow where he had chosen to cross but the water still came high up Avaanta's chest. His horse was able to walk easily through the water without having to swim and the pair had soon made it to the other side.

Avaanta noticed also, as he was climbing out of the swirling waters, that the first light of dawn was toughing the inky blackness of the horizon.

"We best find somewhere secluded to sleep the day away before heading for Mordor, or what remains of it anyway."

The horse seemed to know where he wanted to go so Avaanta allowed him to lead him off in the direction of a small forest. Its dense foliage would provide excellent cover for the both of them to hide beneath while they waited for night to fall again.

"Well done." He stroked the horse's neck fondly. "This will suit us well until nightfall."

* * *

Darkness cloaked the masked rider and his black steed as they galloped through the night across unsettled terrain. The normally surefooted horse found himself sliding and skidding occasionally on the loose slate that covered these desolate parts.

The area once called Mordor was never a pretty place but now unused and vacated it was a sole less expanse of rocky land that had little form and no beauty. Avaanta even felt cold in this place as he rode through it under the blanket of darkness the starless sky provided. Clouds hung low obscuring the moon and the tiny bright lights that normally shone above.

Finally, after much riding, he came across the ruins of the Tower of Barad-Dur. There he knew he would find the fifth Palantir, hidden in amongst all that crumbled masonry. For it was within the tower that Sauron has kept the Palantir, and there it had remained even as he had watched the tower collapse at the climax of the war as Fordo had destroyed the Ring in the fires of Mt. Doom.

Avaanta flicked his gaze to his right where the belching volcano had been when he had last set foot in this area. It had long since burnt itself out, destroying most of structure with it's own molten rock spewing forth from it. Now it was little more than a rocky hill, which Avaanta could barely make out through the darkness.

He glanced about, peering through the darkness in an attempt to make out anything of his surroundings. Eventually he had to accept that it was too dark to begin his search for the Palantir of Minas Ithil, hidden beneath the ruins of Barad-Dur. He would have to wait until dawn and the mere thought frustrated him so, he cried out in rage and fell to his knees upon the rocky ground.

His dark steed walked over to him and nudged his muzzle against Avaanta's head. The Elf wrapped his arms about the horse head and gently stroked his blaze.

"At least I can place my trust in you Talagor. Not like Celeborn. He wanted to destroy us, destroy what we were trying to do. He doesn't understand, can't see the greater picture. He'll never be able to understand what we're trying to achieve."

The horse flared its nostrils to indicate that it was indeed listening to the words of his master, even if he could not comprehend them.

"He won't last two days on his own Talagor. By nightfall tomorrow he'll have been caught and sold to the highest bidder. I could name many Men who would pay a very high price to own him."

The horse nuzzled him and Avaanta rested his forehead against the horses. He felt like the beast was the only thing in the whole of Middle Earth he could trust.

Sighing heavily in frustration at having to delay his search Avaanta curled up in as comfortable a position as he could manage on the hard, uneven ground and settled down to get some sleep. He heard a loud rustling beside him as the mighty horse lowered himself to the stony ground beside him and curled his large body about him, sheltering the Elf from the cold feeling that had settled in his bones since setting foot in this place. The two slept like this for the rest of the night, only when the first rays of sunlight kissed Avaanta's pale face did he wake and begin to plan out the most efficient approach to the search that lay ahead of him.

Avaanta had been searching since dawn for the Palantir but so far was no closer to locating it. He cried out in frustration and kicked at a nearby rock, doubling over and gripping his foot in pain as the rock turned out to be significantly heavier than it looked. Cursing he hopped about the uneven land until, loosing his footing, he stumbled to the ground, cracking his head against a flat rock. He hollered in pain and brought a hand to the back of his head to see if the wound was bleeding. As he brought his hand to his eyes he could see no blood but upon returning it to the back of his head he could already feel a slight bump. He cursed loudly and threw a rock close at hand clear across the rubble.

It smacked into a part of the structure that had appeared relatively sound until struck by the rock, bringing it tumbling to the ground. Chunks of stone clattered across the hard ground and a puff of dust blew up into the air.

As he approached the crumbled rubble Avaanta coughed and waved an arm about in front of him to clear the dust about him. He raised a hand to his mouth to stifle another coughing fit before the dust about him finally settled and he was able to see clearly as he dug through the pile of rubble.

After half an hour of digging about in the rubble he had turned up nothing. Not to his surprise though, why should he have expected the Palantir to be there just because he'd caused the stone structure to collapse. He heaved a defeated sigh and sat down on a flat rock. At this rate it would take months to search through the ruins of Barad-Dur. He hung his head between his hands in the hope that a brilliant thought would come to him.

He sat like that until the sun set, brilliant blood red in the west at his back and night began to ascend. His horse nudged his shoulder and he suddenly became aware that the rest of the day had passed without his knowledge.

He growled in frustration at having to spend yet another night in the desolate expanse of land. He would not admit it out loud but a lingering thought at the back of his mind reminded him that he would not be so lonely had he still had the company of Celeborn. He snorted to himself, Celeborn had betrayed him, had wanted to steal the Palantiri off him, why should he consider the other Elf a friend after all that. Those were his Palantiri; he had suffered to find them, to claim them, to hide them….

The masked Elf's eyes suddenly lit up as the thought he had been striving for all afternoon suddenly came to him. Saruman had communicated with Sauron during the war of the ring using the Orthanc Palantir. Which meant that that stone communicated directly with the stone he was trying to find, or if not directly at least he knew it had done so once before. If he went back the retrieved the Orthanc Palantir he could use it to locate the Palantir of Minas Ithil, he might run a slight risk of being seen through the remaining other two Palantiri but it was one he was willing to take. It would end this fruitless search in only a few hours.

A satisfied smirk graced his lips as he called his horse over to him. He leapt gracefully to the creature's back, his seared black cloak swirling about his elegant form as he adjusted his seat upon the beast's broad back. Starlight flickered across his silver half mask with every movement of his head before he pulled the dark hood up, throwing his face into shadows.

A light kick to his mount's side and the horse took off at a flying gallop in the direction they had come just the night before. Avaanta wished there was some way to speed up the journey but he could not do any magic of that sort. He would just have to ride his horse ragged for the night and the following day and hope the stallion would be able to recover his strength in time to carry them back out of that dismal place.

Avaanta shuddered at the thought of having to going back there. He considered himself fairly hardened after his first hand experience with torture but there was still something terribly unsettling about the place that was once called Mordor. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that nothing lived there, in his night and day there he had seen not a single creature, no bird, mouse or cricket to fill the night with his song. No flora grew there either; it was a desolate place devoid of any life. Avaanta decided that was what was most unsettling about it, that and the evil presence that could still be felt there, long after the destruction of Sauron.

Avaanta left his steed on the far side of the bank along with his boots, cloak, weapons and leather tunic. He dove into the hurrying water of the Great River and long even strokes pulled him swiftly to the other side.

Pulling himself from the water he shook his long blond hair, sending a shower of tiny water droplets about him and freeing his hair of the extra weight. Rivulets of water trickled down the smooth surface of the metallic mask the Elf wore upon his face, it glistened in the sun and soon the water no longer clung to its surface.

Uneasy blue eyes darted about the deserted area but Avaanta knew all too well that just because an area looks deserted doesn't necessarily mean it is. Ducking behind a large boulder he waited patiently to see if anyone would emerge from hiding who may have been watching him. As the minutes slowly slipped by and no movement was detected by the dull blue eyes and not a sound picked up by the sharp ears Avaanta moved back out from behind the boulder and felt his way along the cliff face until he felt his fingers slip into the hidden crevice.

For anyone who did not know it was what it was would think it were only a tiny crack in the rocks surface but if one were to in fact slip down past a fallen boulder they would see that in fact the half of the cliff to the left of the crack was set back from the right, effectively making the opening much larger than it had once appeared.

This Avaanta did now, slipping in behind the boulder and then twisting his body to squeeze into the crack in the cliff face. It was a tight fit and the Elf had to expel all the air form his lungs in order to shrink the size of his chest cavity and allow him to slip inside.

A slow, faint dripping greeted the Elf's ears as he finally squeezed into the dark cavern. Brushing some moss that had clung to his silvery tunic off he stepped carefully into the dark. He counted each pace and as the seventeenth one rang off the walls of the cave he stretched a hand out to brush against the wall. He smiled to himself as he crouched down in the darkness and his hand smoothed over the surface of one of his hidden Palantiri. His eyes fluttered shut as the cool surface flowed beneath his trembling fingers; the power that radiated from the stones was becoming more intense with every stone he collected.

With a finger he counted off each of the stones until his finger lighted upon the stone of Orthanc. He wrapped both hands around it and lifted it from the floor, cradling the stone in one arm he paced his way back to the cave's entrance and squeezed back out into the fading daylight.

There he swam back to his horse and belongings he had left behind. He pulled his leather tunic on over his wet silken tunic, tugged his boots on, slung he weapons over his back and used his black cloak to wrap up the Palantir. He mounted his horse and soon the two were off, speeding towards the lands of Mordor.

* * *

As day broke on the following morning Avaanta galloped his horse into the vastness of Mordor. The ruins lay before him, just as he had left them and now here he was again. Only this time he would not leave empty handed.

He whipped the black cloak off the Palantir and held it in his hands before him. Focusing his attention to the reflective black surface he stared hard into its black depth.

He must have sat in such a pose for several hours, trying in vain to draw an image to the stones surface. Frustration finally set in and with a furious cry Avaanta raised the large stone above his head and was about to hurl it from his grasped when he stopped himself.

Wide eyes starred out over the bleak terrain as he followed the path the stone might have taken had he released it. He had no idea of knowing how far it would have gone but he hated to think of it. He brought the stone down from over his head and cradled it in his arms up against his chest, lying his head on it's surface as if it were his own child.

His horse shifted impatiently beneath him.

"Alright, alright I know I'm getting no where but I just don't know how to work it ok."

The horse tossed his head.

"Celeborn."

Avaanta fumed and vented his frustration with a loud yell that echoed off the mountains.

"Damn him! Damn him, damn him, damn him!"

He wasted no more time, kicking his horse into action they took off again for the crack in the cliff. Avaanta needed to hide his Palantir before he went off in search of Celeborn, the only soul in Middle Earth he could trust to show him how to use the stones seeing power.


	8. Help To Find The Fifth

**The Seven Seeing Stones**

Eight  
Help To Find The Fifth

Avaanta pulled his horse to a sudden stop as he spotted a lone rider on the far horizon. It appeared to be a horseman and as it was a rare occurrence to see an Elf at all, much less one out in the open such as this figure, he safely assumed he was of the race of Men. Though whether that assumption was in itself safe was another matter.

So long as the rider remained alone Avaanta felt confident in his own abilities to defend himself easily enough against such a foe. He knew he was out of the man's line of site, himself only just able to see him so he turned his horse to approach the man from around the hill that rose before him.

After finding no other men accompanying the rider Avaanta decided to approach with caution, hoping the man may be able to tell him of Celeborn's whereabouts. He pulled his dark hood up to hide his face and especially his ears from view before setting his horse off towards the other at a light trot.

The man saw him coming and drew a sword, ready to defend himself if it came to it but as the strange hooded rider drew closer without showing any signs of producing a weapon he sheathed his sword and rode out to meet him.

"Greetings to you man of Rohan. I come from Gondor with news from its King." Avaanta lowed his voice as best he could to make it sound rougher.

The man eyed him up and down deciding were he a man of Gondor that would certainly explain the cloak, and they were due to receive word from Gondor. Avaanta remained stiff in the saddle, fighting off the urge to shift his weight thereby displaying his uncertainty.

"If you bring news from the King you best come with me then."

The man turned his horse and waited for Avaanta to pull up beside him. He tried to peer beneath the shade of the hood and thought he saw a shimmering surface, but that could not be right.

The two horses took off at a hurried pace but were not in any desperate rush to reach Edoras.

They rode for sometime before Avaanta finally questioned the man about Celeborn.

"I have been hunting an Elf for several days now but he gave me the slip a few nights ago around these parts. I don't suppose you may have seen him?"

Avaanta held his breath as he desperately hoped the man would buy his story, thankfully he did. The tanned face of the man quickly contorted into a look of disgust.

"An Elf you say. Thought we had killed them all or sold them into slavery!" He bellowed loudly and Avaanta fought down rising bile as he attempted to laugh with him, keeping this act up was important if he were to keep his identity a secret.

"Actually now that you mention it our King recently obtained a new Elven slave, only a few days ago." The man paused and Avaanta waited with hidden raised eyebrows for him to continue. "A tall silver-blond male actually, pale blue eyes, attitude problem; took a day or two to break him."

"That's him." Avaanta said with a hidden smirk.

"Guess someone else beat you to him huh friend?"

"Yes I guess they did. A shame, I could have a got a very good price for him."

"I don't doubt that." He laughed haughtily again and Avaanta cringed inwardly, disgusted by the man beside him in so many ways.

Luckily he did not have to converse with him for the remainder of their journey, he smelt awful to top everything off and Avaanta had to manoeuvre his horse every time the winds shifted so his nostrils would not be assaulted by the stench.  
He wasn't sure how he felt about the news of Celeborn's capture. Foremost he felt the other Elf had it coming, that he deserved to be captured and forced into slavery. However a part of himself that he had kept buried deep within since his torture felt sorry for the Elf, but he was not sure he was ready to admit that quite yet.

* * *

The riders slowed their horses as they came up over the rise and Edoras appeared before them, golden in the morning sun, flags stirred by the wind that whipped through the valley. It had been some time before he had been here last; those had been happier times but were not to be dwelt upon.

"I will take you to the King man of Gondor but you will have to give me your name if I am to introduce you."

Avaanta panicked for a moment, not sure whether he should risk using his name or complicate matters further by adding another, plus Celeborn would recognise him and most likely call him by his chosen name. There was an easy way to settle his internal dispute and to do so he pulled his hood back from his head, exposing his half masked face to the man beside him.

The Rohan soldier gasped quietly and Avaanta almost prepared to flee as he thought Eldarion's word on his theft of the Palantiri must have gotten out with a description to match him. However when the man seemed to only be horrified by his appearance but showed no signs of any sort of recognition Avaanta relaxed in the saddle.

"You may introduce me as Avaanta. But it is most urgent that I see your King."

The soldier nodded and galloped his horse off with Avaanta in tow. Their horses were taken off to the stables to be cared for while the man lead Avaanta up to the King's Hall.

The solider left him with the guards who lead him into the Golden Hall to be presented to the King. He still wore his black cloak about his shoulders but his hood was drawn back and he had been disarmed at the doors to the hall. Between the two guards he was walked up to the throne upon which sat Elfwine, Rohan's current King and son of Eomer.

"Well whom do we have here?" The King asked with a raised eyebrow.

"This is Avaanta. He comes with word from Gondor's King." One of the guards introduced him before the King dismissed them.

Elfwine motioned for Avaanta to sit in a chair placed before his throne and snapped his fingers loudly, why Avaanta was not sure until from the shadows behind the throne emerged a defeated looking Celeborn dressed in nothing but a pair of silvery leggings and with his long hair pulled back from his face.  
The Elven Lord's eyes widened as he recognised Avaanta but he quickly squeezed them shut as a sharp tug upon his hair reminded him of the horror he had been living for the past few days.

"You come when I call you slave. Always remember to whom you belong." The King twisted the Elf's hair once more for good measure.

"Yes master."

"Good. Now go fetch myself and our guest, Avaanta, a drink."

"As you wish master. I shall be right back with your request." His tone was demure but as he walked past Avaanta, with his back to Rohan's King, he glared hatefully at the other Elf who responded only with a wide grin.

Avaanta watched as the Elven Lord turned slave exited the room before he turned back to Elfwine, a knowing smile plastered across the King's face.

"A fine specimen isn't he? Can you believe my soldiers found him roaming about our lands on his own." He chuckled and Avaanta responded with a grin he hoped didn't look as forced as it felt.

"Yes. I was hunting him prior to my arrival here."

Elfwine raised a thick eyebrow and waved a hand to motion for his guest to continue.

"An Elf recently broke into the King's Tower and stole something of great value to him. Eldarion has hired me to find the culprit and I believe your Elven slave is him."

"So the King has had his precious stones stolen has he?" A smirk crossed the man's face and Avaanta was carefully to hide his shock at Elfwine knowing about the Palantiri that had been in Eldarion's possession. "I didn't find them on the Elf when I captured him."

"He may have hidden them somewhere before he was found. Did you think of that?"

The King shook his head and then laughed loudly.

"Fancy that, little Eldarion had his rocks stolen by an Elf!"

"Yes. It has become quite the scandal as you can imagine."

"I suppose you'll want to take him then?"

"Take him?"

"Back to Gondor for whatever punishment is in order for him. Personally I think Gondor's precious little King has made the whole thing up. Probably grown tired of his own slaves and has heard of how wonderful my new one is and has sent you to bring him to him."

"You can assume anything you desire Elfwine all I know is what I have been hired for and that is to bring back that Elf for theft."

At that point Celeborn sulked back into the room with a silver tray perched delicately on his outstretched hand. He handed a tarnished silver goblet to each of the males who then raised their glasses before drinking deeply, while Celeborn back himself into the shadows behind the King's throne so that he could glare out at Avaanta until the King next called for his services.

"Well I suppose we cannot afford to upset Gondor. Take him then, wouldn't want him stealing my Palantir while he's in my services."

Avaanta had to fight very hard to keep the tiny gasp from breaking past his lips at this news. He had no idea that Rohan's King had a Palantir in his possession; this was certainly news and good news at that.

"Thank you Elfwine. Eldarion will be most appreciative for your cooperation."

The King nodded and took a swig from the goblet in his hand.

"Will you be needing accommodation for the night?"

"If you have a room to spare I would be most grateful for it. I fear I have worn my horse out getting here." Avaanta smirked inwardly, the King playing right into his hand.

"Very well. Slave!"

Celeborn hurried to Elfwine's side, not really in the mood for a beating of any sort.

"You called master." He bowed demurely and the King caught his chin in his hand.

"Have a room prepared for our guest, you shall tend to him during his stay and tomorrow you shall be leaving with him. Pray he treats you mercifully." He grinned a sickening grin and stroked a finger along his check. Celeborn shuddered in disgust and looked over at Avaanta, furry dancing in his eyes.

When the King released his chin Celeborn hurried off to prepare a room for Avaanta.

Avaanta remained in the throne room to engage in a conversation that involved an awful lot of false facts about Gondor and his role in the King's service. Elfwine seemed to buy it all without a questioning look.

As they were conversing a young blond woman in a pale red dress entered the throne room and headed for the King, a warm smile upon her face. Avaanta raised an eyebrow as she passed him, before she planted a soft kiss upon the King's cheek.

"Hello father."

"Hello my darling daughter. I would like you to meet a guest of mine. This is Avaanta, he is a soldier of Gondor and has brought new for me."

"Pleased to meet you Avaanta. Will you be staying with us for long?"

"Only the night I'm afraid. In the morn I must return the Elf to his Majesty for punishment."

"Is he talking about your new Elf father?"

"I'm afraid so child, it would appear he is wanted for grand larceny back in Gondor."

"I see." She sounded bored with the topic and flipped her long golden hair off her shoulders. Turning her attention from her father to the male with the silver mask obstructing half of his face. "I hope your stay here is an enjoyable one Avaanta, even though it will be short."

She flashed him a seductive smile before waving farewell to her father and disappearing off down the halls where Avaanta would later discover the royal families chambers were located.

"As soon as my Elf has returned I will have him show you to your room, where he will be at your service for your entire stay here."

The grin Elfwine flashed him made Avaanta feel sick to his stomach but he forced a smile back. It was not worth the risk of insulting his host.

After an invite was extended for him to join the King and his daughter for dinner Avaanta excused himself and asked to be lead to his room. A guard left him at the door and Avaanta thanked him before slipping inside. Once inside he was greeted by a fuming Celeborn lying on the bed, propped up on his elbows, legs stretched out before him with one folded neatly over the other.

"Didn't I tell you you'd be caught?" Avaanta said smugly as he lent back against the closed door.

"You are the reason I'm here Avaanta. I would kill you right now with my bare hands if I thought I could get away with it." Celeborn growled back at him.

Avaanta laughed loudly while Celeborn continued to glare at him.

"Why are you still in here anyway Celeborn. I thought your orders were to prepare my rooms."

Now it was Celeborn's turn to laugh.

"You don't think that's all they think a pretty Elven slave is good for hmm? I was ordered to prepare your room for you and then I was to be at you disposal for the rest of your stay here." Celeborn smiled seductively and laid himself invitingly out upon the bed, it was all an act and his smile quickly became a grimace.

Avaanta cringed and made a disgusted face before Celeborn sat up and drew his knees up to his chest.

"They don't really ask such things of you do they?" A tiny amount of Legolas slipped back into his speech and it did not escape Celeborn. If he played this out right perhaps there was a chance to save the Elven Prince from himself after all.

"What do you think was one of the first duties the King asked me to preform?"

Avaanta looked horrified at the honesty in Celeborn's eyes and sat down at the other end of the bed.

"I thought you knew all about what went on with the Elven slaves that were brought to Gondor."

"I suppose I did, but I didn't want to believe everything I heard was true."

"Well it is and I have you to thank for it."

Avaanta was not about to apologise to him, not after he had tried to foil his planes to capture the seven Palantiri. And yet he had not become completely stone hearted.

"I'm getting you out of here tomorrow."

"What?" Celeborn sounded genuinely shocked. "And how do you plan to do that."

"I'm taking you as my prisoner back with me to Gondor. After all the King has had me hunting down the Elf who stole his Palantiri for several days now."

Celeborn smiled for the first time in days and was tempted to throw his arms about the other Elf in gratitude but decided that was probably pushing the boundaries of whatever frail friendship they had.

"Put this on." Avaanta removed his black cloak and threw it at Celeborn. "I grow tired of the sight of your abdomen."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Celeborn's mouth as he wrapped the cloak about him in order to cover his naked upper half.

"But why wait until morning to leave?" Celeborn questioned as Avaanta began exploring the room.

"Because Elfwine let slip a very interesting piece of information."

Celeborn groaned loudly as he guessed to what Avaanta was referring.

"He has a Palantir in his possession doesn't he?"

"Yes it would seem he does. You know where it is?"

"No." Celeborn shook his head. "I assumed as much from the look in your eye."

"You know why I drove you off don't you Celeborn?"

"Yes but I can assure you your assumptions were misconceived Avaanta. I do not want to take your precious stones from you. In fact I want nothing to do with them. I would just rather not live out my life as a slave to the King of Rohan."

"Good. Then we have an accord?"

Avaanta held a hand out, which Celeborn took and shook firmly.

"So how do you plan to find, capture and steal the King's Palantiri all in one night?"

"Don't worry it wont involve you in anyway, if all goes to plan. I will however need you to vacate my room tonight."

"Why?" Celeborn gave Avaanta a suspicious look.

"Are you really in a position to be asking that?"

Avaanta was now lounging casually against the wall beside the bed, an eyebrow raised, knowing full well the other Elf couldn't deny a single request of his at this point in time.

"As you wish it then Avaanta. I will be sure to see to it that your room is empty tonight."

"Thank you Celeborn."

A loud knock at the door halted their conversation and Celeborn looked up at Avaanta with wide eyes. The younger Elf held his hand out for his cloak and Celeborn quickly tossed it at him and arranged himself upon the bed in a more submissive looking position. Neither really wanted to have to do any explaining as to why they were treating one another as equals.

"Enter." Avaanta called out.

A young servant girl pushed the door open carefully and cast her eyes quickly to the floor as she caught sight of the half naked Elf sprawled across the bed. Avaanta smiled, well at least he would have no explaining to do to this servant and she looked far too embarrassed to repeat anything she saw or heard.

"Sorry for my intrusion my Lord but dinner is served."

"Thank you. You are excused."

The young girl hurried out, leaving the two Elves alone once again.

"Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?" Avaanta asked Celeborn.

"When our company is not wanted by our masters we sleep in the servants quarters."

"You will sleep there tonight then." Avaanta threw his black cloak at Celeborn again. "Don't loose it," He pointed to the cloak with a stern look, "and I expect you back here in the hour before dawn."

Avaanta took his leave then and headed for dinner with the King and his daughter. His plan was a simple one and he was confident he could pull it off. Though his confidence would have been far greater was his face still as beautiful as it had been.


	9. First Blood Spilt

**The Seven Seeing Stones**

Author's Note:  
Thank you so much to Laurenke1 for all your constant support for this story so far. If anyone else is still reading this I'd love to hear from you so please review.

Nine  
First Blood Spilt

Dinner was going as well as could be expected. Avaanta had lost none of his past charm and before the main course was served he had the King's daughter fluttering her long eyelashes at him, coyly tracing her foot up his leg beneath the table.

He would have her in his bed before the night was through and then it would only be a matter of time before he made his move to discover the whereabouts of the King's Palantir.

Avaanta hadn't eaten well for the past few weeks and it took a lot of self-restraint not to devour the meal like a starved animal. Rohan's King turned out to be quite the bore and Avaanta found himself flirting with his daughter simply to pass the time, even though he already had her wanting him more than he had ever expected. He had thought perhaps the mask would work against him but it seemed to be surprisingly to his advantage, almost as though she seemed to find something oddly fascinating about what could lie behind the reflective surface.

Either way Avaanta didn't care, he need to get her into bed before the night was through if his plans were going to work.

Avaanta raised an eyebrow and coughed slightly as her foot strayed a little higher up his thigh than it had been previously, he couldn't believe how easy this was going to be.

The next thing for him was to test the King's opinion of him flirting with his daughter. So as the main meal was cleared and they prepared for dessert Avaanta became suddenly more open with his flirtations. She responded with equal enthusiasm and the King didn't seem to have a bad thing to say about it, or if he did he certainly kept it to himself. In fact if Avaanta didn't know any batter he'd say that the King of Rohan didn't mind or didn't care if his daughter flirted with a soldier from Gondor, or a man he thought was a soldier of Gondor, and it was not long before the King excused himself to leave them alone.

"It's a shame you're only staying for one night Avaanta. There are a few things I'd sure like to do to you."

She smiled suggestively as she traced a now bared foot up the inside of Avaanta's thigh. He caught her foot in his firm grip and gently began to massage the sole of it.

"What could you possibly think of to do which we couldn't achieve in a night?" He lent down and placed a kiss upon her toes before raising his eyes to meet with hers.

Lothiriel licked her lips and drew her foot carefully out of Avaanta's grip and held a hand out to him instead. He placed his hand in hers and let her pull him up to stand. He wrapped an arm firmly about her waist and pressed a fierce kiss to her slightly parted lips. She kissed back and was about to ask him to come back to her room with her when his voice cut into her thoughts.

"Join me in my room?" He breathed huskily into her ear.

She shivered against him before nodding and allowing him to lead her off towards the guest room he had been provided for his stay. As they walked quickly down the halls Avaanta hoped that Celeborn had vacated his room by now cause he certainly didn't want to have to explain that tonight.

The two slipped into Avaanta's guest room and quickly devastated one another of their clothing as they made their way to the bed. Avaanta had a sly feeling that Lothiriel may make a habit of treating many of Rohan's visitors to the kind of treatment Avaanta was now experiencing.

Avaanta took her hard and roughly, her fingers tracing over the scars marring his pale well-muscled torso excited him as much as his brutal advances excited her.

Several times she reached for his mask but each time Avaanta would rip his head from her grasp and growl low in his throat before thrusting harder into her.

Both climaxed quickly, a strangled howl from Avaanta & a long low moan from Lothiriel, as she arched up against her midnight lover, vocalised their pleasure.

Avaanta lay awake for sometime, long after Lothiriel had fallen asleep across his chest. He sneered disdainfully down at her sleeping face and wanted desperately to remove her from his body, but for the moment could not risk waking her.

Finally he was sure she was sleeping deeply and he carefully rolled her off him and held his breath as she curled into a tight ball beneath the sheets. As she settled again he let a long breath out and slipped silently across the room and to the door.

Hand poised on the door handle he froze as the soft feminine voice of his bed partner called out through the dark.

"Legolas!"  
His breathing ceased as he waited for her to continue, praying that she was merely calling out in her sleep.

"That was your name once wasn't it? You're the Prince of Mirkwood."

She was sitting up on the bed now, the sheets pooled about her waist, exposing her naked breast to the night air.

"I knew it from your ears, you had to be Elvish. That's why you wouldn't let me see your face isn't it? Why are you calling yourself…"

Quick as lightning Avaanta was at the bedside and had a firm grip upon Lothiriel's delicate wrist, hauling her up by her arm he pulled her to him.

"What do you know of anything?" He hissed, baring sharp white teeth in the dark. "My name is Avaanta, you will never tell another soul that I once went by another name."

"But why hide yourself, you're protected under Gondor's laws Legolas."

She let out a strangled cry as the Elf pressed a long knife to the pale, delicate skin of her exposed throat.

"I am not Legolas, do not address me as such or your life will be cut remarkably short."

She whimpered quietly as Avaanta spun her around so her back pressed to his naked front, his strong arm pining her waist to him while he pressed the knife ever more firmly against her supple skin.

"Now, while I have you in such an obviously vulnerable position, tell me where does your father keep the Palantir?"

"I don't know what you're talking…" She gasped in fear and Avaanta quickly moved a hand over her mouth to muffle her cry as he pressed the knife more firmly against her neck, drawing pearls of blood to the surface, pooling along the knife's edge.

"Don't toy with me girl you will tell me where that Palantir is or I will kill you, and no one will find you till morning you slut." He hissed in her ear, flicking a tongue out over the shell of it as he did. "Do you give yourself so freely to every guest who visits your father's kingdom?" He chuckled cynically as she sobbed at his cruel words.

"Now, about that Palantir." His voice was no longer sly or teasing but dangerously firm.

She choked out a sob but Avaanta only pushed the knife's sharp edge deeper into her flesh.

"Alright! Alright, please just don't kill me!"

Tears stained her cheeks as the poured from her fear filled eyes.

"Good girl. Now, where does he keep it?"

"There's a trapdoor in the floor of the throne room. It….it's hidden under a…a…a red rug. Go down the stairs and you'll find it. The door isn't locked, father only locks it when he leaves Edoras for travel."

"Well done Lothiriel. You have served your purpose."

Cruelly Avaanta pushed the blade deep into flesh and drew it swiftly across her neck as he tugged her head back with a fist full of her hair. The wound gaped open as he cut all the way through to her spinal column, blood pulsed from her served arteries and leaked from veins. A watery gurgle sounded from her severed windpipe as it filled with her own blood.

Her body fell limp in his grasp and he released his hold on her, her dead weight slumping to the bed. The white sheets now crimson with her sprayed blood.

Avaanta sneered in disgust at the angle of her head to her neck as he wiped his knife clean on the sheets.

Her body would not be discovered until morning, of the he was certain. All he had to do now was collect the Palantir and fetch Celeborn from the servants sleeping quarters. The second task was easily done; no one would blink an eye at a guest of the King requesting the presence of an Elven slave in the middle of the night. The first would be harder as he knew the throne room was well guarded, even at night.

A sly smirk crossed his face, a plan formulating slowly in his mind. It depended on a lot going the way he needed it to but for the moment it was his best shot. First he would need to retrieve Celeborn from the servants sleeping quarters, he was going to need a small amount of input from the other Elf for this to work.

He quickly dressed but decided against carrying his bow and quiver with him, it would only make his appearance in the throne room suspicious. In fact, now that he had lit a lamp and checked himself in the mirror, he decided his soft leather outer tunic was best done without also. Pulling it off over his head he placed it on a chair that he had lent his bow and quiver against.

He stood before his reflection, adjusting his longer silvery tunic on his torso before checking his dark green leggings and face for any blood traces. Finding his appearance adequate so as not to arouse too much suspicion he quietly slipped out the door and down the corridor.


	10. Escape From Edoras

**The Seven Seeing Stone**

Ten  
Escape From Edoras

"Celeborn."

Avaanta kicked the toe of his soft leather boot into the sleeping Celeborn's ribs. He did not bother to lower his voice to a hush, what did it matter if the other servants woke. They would see nothing out of the ordinary.

Celeborn stirred slightly in his sleep, mumbled quietly and then settled back down. Avaanta heaved a sigh and kicked the sleeping Elf harder.

This time Celeborn doubled over and groaned loudly, waking a few of the other servants who observed for a moment before settling back to sleep. Celeborn meanwhile was still doubled over, clutching at his bruised ribs and moaning loudly.

"Quit your whinging Celeborn and get up." Avaanta grumbled as he gripped the other Elf by the collar of the black cloak he had spared him and hauled him to his feet.

Celeborn's legs could barely hold his weight and were it not for Avaanta holding him up by the scruff of the neck he would have collapsed back to the floor. He blinked tired eyes open to find an impatient Avaanta staring back at him Faintly he could hear a soft booted foot tapping on the stone floor. He uncurled his body as the throbbing in his side subsided and he tugged himself free of Avaanta's grip as he stood under his own power.

"To what do I owe this unexpected visit Avaanta" he teased before adding with a quiet hiss "I thought you said you would expect me to meet you in your quarters just before dawn."

"I did but there's been a change of plan."

The younger Elf glanced about the room, searching carefully for signs that any of the other servants were listening but all appeared to have gone back to sleep or simply weren't interested.

"Come with me."

Avaanta said nothing more as he padded quietly through the disarray of sleeping servants spread out across the floor. Celeborn didn't follow immediately but as soon as his legs caught up with his brain he was quickly off on Avaanta's heal.

"Avaanta!" He hissed out into the dark corridor.

"Hurry along Celeborn. I tire of your delays." Avaanta called out from some distance ahead with little regard for the sleeping occupants of the Golden Hall.

Celeborn ran on bare feet silently down the corridor until he caught up with Avaanta whose long purposeful strides were carrying him speedily through the maze of corridors and on towards his destination, the King's throne room.

"Where are we going Avaanta?" The older Elf asked as he drew up alongside his younger companion.

"I am going to relieve the King of Rohan of his Palantir, you are coming with me to get rid of the guards."

"Oh and how do you propose we do that, completely unarmed I might add?"

Avaanta flashed him a smirk that made him feel unusually uneasy.

"You don't need to worry about a thing Celeborn. Just act like the slave you've been trained to be and follow my lead."

Celeborn stopped dead mid-stride and waited for Avaanta to halt his steps and turn to face him, to witness the hateful glare he was directing at him. Avaanta arched an eyebrow and watched as the hateful look on Celeborn's face refused to leave.

"I have a feeling I know what you want from me and it's not going to happen Avaanta. Forget it!"

"I want nothing from you Celeborn." He was upon him so fast he didn't know it until he felt his back crash up hard against the wall and a hand clasped tightly about his throat. "You think I want _that_ from you! Wrong Celeborn, wrong!" He hissed in his face.

"Then what?" Celeborn gasped out, his windpipe severely restricted.

"An act, that's all I need. The guards will clear out as soon as they catch on, they wouldn't dare to insult the King's guest. Just an act. Do this and you are free to join me in the rest of my travels, safe from the clutches of Men."

Celeborn looked away from Avaanta but quickly turned back.

"Fine, let's get this done so we can get out of here."

Avaanta released him from the wall and continued down the hall with not so much as a glance backwards. Celeborn raised a hand tentatively to his neck to gently massage the already red skin there. After recovering from the initial shock of being almost strangled by the younger Avaanta he followed him quickly down the hall once again.

The throne room was bathed in shadows, lit only by a few flickering torches mounted on the wall. Avaanta threw a shadow up behind him as he entered the room. The three guards who were on duty for the night looked up at the sound of approaching footfalls but averted their eyes as the bizarre masked stranger the King had invited in as a guest entered.

Celeborn quickly hurried in after Avaanta and blushed terribly as soon as he saw the three guards; each one was smirking secretively to themselves and it made him terribly uneasy.

Avaanta cast his eyes discretely over the floor of the throne room until he spotted a red patterned rug with a slight bulge a third of the way along it. He smirked. That had to be where the trapdoor in the floor was located. Now he only had to get rid of the guards and bide some time to open it up and pillage its contents.

He called Celeborn to him with a crooked finger, his back to the three guards. Celeborn stood before him and Avaanta leaned into him so that he could whisper in his ear.

"Can you see the guards?"

"Yes." Celeborn whispered back

"Good. Kneel on the floor and tell me a soon as they leave the room."

"What?" Celeborn sounded surprised.

"Think of how it will look from their angle, they'll be out of here before your knees even hit the floor if you sink slowly enough."

Celeborn glared hotly at him but followed the younger Elf's advice and took his decent to the floor as slowly as possible. Avaanta had to bite back a bout of laughter that threatened to erupt at the sight of Celeborn sinking to the floor, all the while giving him the most icy look he had ever received from another being.

Celeborn's knees hit the floor and he peered around Avaanta in the direction of the three guards.

"They're gone." He whispered as he quickly got to his feet again.

Avaanta allowed a chuckle to escape and Celeborn gave him a hateful look before disappearing quickly round the corner to check that the guards were long gone. Avaanta meanwhile had taken the liberty to throw off the rug that had been covering the trapdoor and smirked in pleasure as the small door in the floor was bared to his greedy blue eyes.

He bent down and pulled open the hatch, a thin flight of stone stairs was revealed to him as he peered down into the gloom. It was too dark to see beyond the seventh or so step but it would seem that Celeborn was thinking much along the same line as he appeared behind him with a lit torch in hand.

A quick glance over his shoulder as he began his decent to check that Celeborn was following and the two descended slowly into the gloom. The torch threw a small pool of light about them in the narrow stairwell but they couldn't see for more than a few steps ahead of them.

The stairway was not long or step and they quickly reached the bottom where the light from the torch split over the floor and bled up the walls. The room itself was tiny at best but there in its centre beneath a musty black cloth was the unmistakeable form of a Palantir.

Avaanta wasted no time scooping the shrouded stone up into his arms. He felt oddly comforted by its weigh, like his propose was once again restored.

"Meet me in my room." He instructed Celeborn as he breezed past.

The other Elf took a moment to let Avaanta to get ahead of him before he too retreated back up the stairs, closing the hatch behind him and returning the rug to its rightful spot on the floor, once again hiding the trapdoor from the prying eyes of those who did not know of its existence. He glanced wearily about for the guards, making sure that no one was present to witness him covering up their theft.

His bare feet carried him swiftly across the stone floor and out of the throne room into a hall, where he almost collided with the group of three returning guards. They smirked and snickered at him as he regained his composure and breezed on past them. One of them whistled after him but he hunched his shoulders and quickened his pace, their laughter following him down the hall.

He was more than grateful when he reached Avaanta's room and was emitted after only one stiff knock on the heavy wooden door. What greeted him on the other side however was something he wished he had never seen.

The bed was a mess of blood stained sheets, never had Celeborn seen such a sight and he had seen violent war. The daughter of Rohan's King lay across the bed with her head at an angel that couldn't possibly be natural. Celeborn, mouth wide open, his whole body trembling, took a few steps further into the room. He barely heard the door click shut as Avaanta closed it casually behind him he was too busy gaping at the contents of her neck, bared to him in a clotted bloody mess by the angle at which her severed head fell back.

He suddenly lurched over, his shoulder colliding hard with the wall as he heaved up the contents of his stomach onto the floor.

Avaanta chuckled to himself as he took the corner of one of the bed sheets and threw it over the dead body, hiding it from view though the sheet itself was stained with her blood.

Celeborn looked up at Avaanta and wiped his mouth.

"Why?"

"She guessed too much."

Celeborn stepped up and away from the vomit that was now pooled on to floor by his feet and decided it wasn't worth questioning Avaanta further.

When he turned to face the other Elf he found him completely dressed, bow, knives and quiver slung over his back and the Palantir in its black cloth tucked under his arm.

"Keep the cloak on. It's still dark outside but the moon is shinning brightly and it will aid to conceal you."

Avaanta strode past Celeborn as he sneered at him before following on his heel. He really didn't have a choice though. Now that Elfwine's daughter was dead it was worlds safer to leave with the other Elf than to stay.

Avaanta was certainly right about it being bright under the pale moonlight, the satellite was full and reflected light brilliantly down onto the earth. The moon's rays lit up the pale skin of his torso before he wrapped the cloak tightly around himself to hide him from its piercing glare.

Avaanta quickly retrieved his horse and a stolen horse for Celeborn.

"You'll have soldiers sent out after you for steeling a horse." Celeborn said as he mounted the animal and turned it quietly towards the gates to the city.

Avaanta only laughed in response.

"Yes, well I suppose you'll be wanted for murder in a few hours."

Avaanta nodded solemnly and turned his horse along with Celeborn.

"We go to Mordor."

Celeborn looked at him in shock and Avaanta shook his head in confirmation.

"That's where the sixth Palantir lies, buried amongst the rubble."

"It was lost when Barad-Dur fell."

"That's right, and I need your help to find it."

"What?"

Suddenly it dawned on Celeborn why Avaanta had come to Rohan in the first place.

"You came looking for me didn't you? Avaanta!"

But the other Elf had taken off, his horse galloping full speed through the gates of Edoras and out into the open plains of Rohan's lands. Celeborn shook his head and charged his horse after him.

He had a sneaking suspicion all along that Avaanta wanted his help for a reason but he also had a feeling the younger Elf wasn't going to tell him what it was he wanted until he wanted.

"Hurry Celeborn! We need to be long gone before dawn."

Celeborn caught his horse up and the two rode in silence until they were well outside the boundaries of Rohan's lands. The only problem being that Avaanta, or an Elf matching Avaanta's description was wanted in Gondor, over whose lands they were now riding.

They had to rest their horses and they had to rest them soon or they were going to collapse from exhaustion.

Finally after several hours of riding and no sign of a cave or forest they could hide in Avaanta and Celeborn stopped under the overhang of a small cliff to try and hide themselves. The horses took the opportunity to eat, drink from a small pool of water, from which Celeborn and Avaanta also took a drink, and sleep.

The two Elves took it turns to rest while the other watched out for roaming bands of soldiers from either Rohan or Gondor. They could not afford to be caught, not now. The price on their heads would be huge, Celeborn an escaped slave and Avaanta a murdering thief.

The blond Elf who kept his mutilated face half hidden behind a silver mask had changed greatly, he was no longer the kind, honourable, princely Elf he once was. Celeborn, however, was convinced that somewhere beneath that silver mask, the black cloak, this obsession with the Palantiri and all he had done recently Legolas still existed, and he vowed to bring him back.


	11. Through The Stone I See

**The Seven Seeing Stones**

Author's Note:  
Sorry that this has been a long wait and that this chapter is so short but I'm been really busy. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out faster but I wouldn't hold my breath.

Eleven  
Through The Stone I See

Avaanta pulled Celeborn into the darkness of the small cave with him. He hadn't wanted to show the other Elf his hiding place for his Palantiri but he certainly didn't want to preform this task out in the open where they could easily be caught.

The younger Elf sat down upon the damp floor and Celeborn crouched beside him. Avaanta flung back the large green velvet cloth he had originally stolen from Gondor and Celeborn's eyes widened at the sight of four of the Palantiri clustered on the rocky ground. He watched as Avaanta carefully placed his newest acquisition in with the collection and selected out another of the large, dark, polished stones.

"This" Avaanta held the stone out to Celeborn "is the Palantir of Osgiliath. I need you to use it to find the Palantir of Minas Ithil for me."

Celeborn raised an eyebrow slightly but Avaanta stared back at him in all seriousness, still holding the stone out to him. Celeborn sighed heavily and took the stone from him. After seeing what he was capable of he wasn't really sure he was quite ready to defy the other Elf.

"I had a feeling you came to get me for a reason."

He gazed down briefly at the stone in his hands before returning his gaze to meet Avaanta's.

"I take it you've already tried to use it."

Avaanta nodded in response.

"I'm hoping you know how Celeborn, that why I went after you and rescued you from a life of slavery in Edoras. This is how you're going to pay me back."

"Well at least you have most of the other stones so not too many people will be looking in on this."

A voice at the back of Celeborn's mind quietly reminded him of just who had the final stone in their possession. But that was something he could not tell Avaanta, not yet anyway. He was hoping that was how he was going to save him from himself.

"Come on Celeborn, sometime before the day is through."

"It may take some time Avaanta. Please have some patience."

Avaanta sighed in defeat and lent back against the stone wall of the cave to watch the other Elf.

Celeborn stared deep into the depth of the dark stone, calling very slowly to the surface the image reflected by the missing stone. Tiny beads of sweat sprung up along his forehead as he concentrated extremely hard on drawing forth the right image. All the stones spoke to one another but some more strongly than others.

Finally when he had found the image he was looking for he drew it up to the stone's surface. He did not notice Avaanta suddenly sit up and lean forward at the sight of a tiny amount of light appearing in the stone.

Soon the image filled the stone's entire surface and once Celeborn was sure he had it under control he called Avaanta over to sit beside him.

"Does any of that look familiar? Remember you are looking from within the stone."

Avaanta studied the image for some time before answering.

"No it doesn't, not from memory but I've memorised the surrounding landscape so when we return I will be able to find it."

Celeborn let out a long breath and the image faded from the stone. Avaanta stole it back from him and wrapped a cloth about it. He now had a small collection of various cloths but he was only using one to cover the stones for the moment.

Avaanta selected the heavy purple material that had once been half a set of drapes back in an unknown King's castle and flung it Celeborn's way.

"Use this as a cloak, I'd like mine back."

Celeborn caught the heavy purple material and weighted it in his hands. He pulled Avaanta's cloak up over his head and tossed it to the younger Elf before draping the purple material about his shoulders and fastening it as best as he could.

Avaanta stood, his black cloak now flowing from his shoulders, the hood pulled up over his head, looking down at the other Elf with dull blue eyes, one hidden almost from sight by the silver mask that half surrounded it.

"We shall ride for Mordor as soon as night falls but we will have to make our search during the day, it would be almost impossible to navigate the uneven terrain in the dark of night."

Celeborn nodded, and seeing as it was still a few hours before nightfall he curled himself up as best he could on the uncomfortable rocky ground, tucking the heavy purple cloak around him, decided to try and catch a few hours sleep.

Avaanta decided the idea wasn't a bad one so took up a spot on the other side of the cave to catch up on some sleep also. He would get little sleep though, he was far too anxious about finding the sixth Palantir. After that there would only be one left to find before the set was complete.

* * *

The two slowed their horses as they entered the valley of Mordor, rubble piled up all around them.

"Well, it certainly has lost a lot of its powerful foreboding image." Celeborn observed but as a strange wind whipped past them he shuddered and found perhaps he was not entirely right on that matter.

Avaanta had not really been listening to him; he was busy casting his eyes about the terrain. Searching slowly and calculatingly for any rocky formations he recognised from the image in the stone.

He became increasingly frustrated, as he was running out of places to look and so far nothing. That was until a tall slanted rock caught his gaze, his eyes lit up and he took off over the uneven, rocky terrain.

Slipping and sliding down a small slope he made his way across the desolate valley towards the rock. Celeborn watched for a few moments before slowly following after him. He was in no hurry to dig up the sixth Palantir. That meant that they would have to go after the seventh and Celeborn was not looking forward to that at all.

Avaanta fell several times on his way over the loose rubble but each time picked himself up and continued on at the same pace. A few shallow cuts and scraps had opened up on the exposed skin of his hands but he ignored the slight stinging pain, the adrenaline rush coming form his anticipation of finding the Palantir driving him on.

He reached the rock and lent against it to catch his breath as his eyes darted about, trying to decipher from what angle he had viewed the rock through the Palantir. He knew it had been from low down and that there had been a fair amount of rubble obscuring his view, which suggested to him that it was probably buried somewhere near the rock he was leaning on.

Dropping to his knees he began to shift large pieces of slate about, digging out smaller collections of rocks from bellow. He had made it almost halfway around the base of the rock, digging out a shallow grave as he went, by the time Celeborn caught up with him.

The older Elf raised an eyebrow and watched in amusement as Avaanta continued digging through the rocky debris.

"Are you absolutely sure this is where it is?"

"Yes!" Avaanta growled in frustration as he heaved a particularly large bolder out of his way.

Celeborn shrugged his shoulders and glanced about him until he found a flat rock that looked as though it may be moderately comfortable to sit on and sat himself down to wait for Avaanta.

Suddenly the sound of clattering rocks stopped and Avaanta emerged from the settling dust, the sixth Palantir held firmly in his hands. Celeborn sighed heavily in defeat. He'd found it and now he would be after the seventh and Celeborn did not doubt that he would be expected to reveal the location of the seventh and final stone.

Avaanta said nothing as he brushed past Celeborn to carry his precious find back to his horse. Celeborn simply stood and watched him in silence as he got further and further away.

"Do you plan to hide here for the rest of your life to you Celeborn?" Avaanta yelled back at him without so much as turning his head.

Celeborn sighed and rolled his eyes at the ignorant youth. What was he going to do? He needed more time to think. He had certainly hoped that it was going to take Avaanta far longer to find that Palantir than it evidently did. Well he supposed dawdling over to their horses would be a good start.

* * *

"You are dreading something." It was not a question and Celeborn was well aware of this.

"Yes I am."

"Not that I truly care how you are feeling, but I suggest you share your thoughts of discomfort."

Celeborn paused for sometime before finally answering Avaanta.

"I am worried about the seventh stone." The older Elf confessed.

Much to Celeborn's surprise Avaanta said nothing. He didn't ask where the stone could be found; he didn't even ask why the seventh stone would concern Celeborn. He simply lifted himself up onto his black stallion and waited patiently for Celeborn to mount his horse so that they could be on their way.

Celeborn had a strange feeling that Avaanta already knew where the seventh stone was but surely if he did he didn't plan to capture it. Such an action was unthinkable. Celeborn would not allow it to happen. He would not let Avaanta take that final step.


End file.
